#INSANE actually. and the waver in her voice...

[kaseyskat]

goddd thinking about the way scary thought for a moment she genuinely killed link just like she was threatening to do and it actually destroyed her. like if she had killed him that would've been IT, the point of no return. taylor and normal were already pretty deadset on fighting her, there'd be no more forgiveness, and part of her craved that because link was the last person who still had hope in her- taylor never had it, normal's was killed after an episode's worth of bullying and then threatening his family, and if even link was gone, dead, scary could finally be free of the burden of having to know people care about her.

and that killed her. and it kills me.

[dcxdpdabbles]

you’ve inspired me so here’s a thing you can do whatever with cause I got a migraine and lost my train of thought

so Danny’s working the bar at the iceberg lounge and notices more people are stress drinking, even the Big Names and asks what’s up only to find it’s ✨Tax Season✨

Danny: oh I always forget about that

someone: (aghast) you don’t pay your taxes

Danny: *shrugs* I’m not allowed to pay taxes

wtf does that mean, is he exempt, someone asks but no Danny explains that the first and only time he tried to pay his taxes he received a full refund and a cease and desist order

word gets around and not even the joker want to mess with Danny because what kind of a monster can scare the irs

(This is actually an inherited problem from his parents)

"What did you just say?" Danny looks up from where he is mixing drinks. Across from him is a purple suit-wearing clown- he hates clowns, so he was attempting not to make eye contact- whose whole white face is twitching slightly.

Danny blinks slowly, using every ounce of self-control to not give in to the urge to reach across the bar and slap him. After a moment, he answered, "I always forget tax season."

"You're crazy enough to take on the IRS?" The clown's jaw drops. "I mean Batman, sure, I understand that, but the IRS?"

Danny frowns. "I don't take them on. I don't have to do my taxes."

"How?" A man in a suit covered in question marks demands from further down the bar.

He shrugs his shoulders a little. "I tried it once, but they sent me a full refund and a cease and desist order. They only remind me that I cannot file taxes now."

"Prove it," A man covered in scales hisses.

Danny grabs a rag, using it to clean off the lemon juice. He reaches into his apron pocket, pulling out a folded-up letter. He could have left it in his locker, but stuff always went missing there. Best to keep his stuff on his person while working. "Sure. Here I have it now. I went to the post office before my shift-hey!"

The lade covered in leaves yanks the letter out of his hand, unfolding it and reading the words as though it wasn't a federal crime. Her voice wavers when she gets to the reminder that the United States of America Internal Revenue Service would not stand another attempt at Daniel Fenton's taxes.

"This can't be real," She scoffs, but there is an underline of worry in her voice that she can't entirely hide.

She turns to a man in a strange white and black suit- like it's evenly split down the middle strange. It matches his face, though; one side is gorgeous, and the other is deformed. "This isn't real, is it Two-Face?"

Two-face takes the paper from her hand, carefully reading the words before pulling out his phone and typing away. After a few seconds, he pauses, then gasps. "It's real. My boys just confirmed the Tax ID number. He is not legally allowed to do taxes."

"Holly Molly, you're insane," the clown gasped, backing out of the seat while pointing at Danny as though he was the devil. "Stay away from me you lunitic! I'm not messing with the IRS's boogie man!"

He turned tail and ran, leaving behind a stunned Danny, wondering what he could have said to earn that reaction. His parents back home were also ordered to not do their taxes. It's common.

He turns to his other customers, ready to take their order, but they all pale and quickly duck away from him as well.

Strange.

Then, Danny notices the silence that has fallen upon the Iceberg Lounge. Even the music has been cut off as everyone stares at him in disbelief.

He shifts, a little uncomfortable with the stares. Danny has never grown used to attention, no matter how much he craved it as a teenager. He always wanted to be in the It Crowd and be given an official membership to the A-listers, but he grew to understand that the only way they liked seeing him was in pain.

So Danny learned to avoid attention as he could, which wasn't complex as the part of the town's freaks, but the very few mintues someone did pay attention to him something terrible ended up happening.

Dash stuffed him into a locker while classmates laughed and cheered the bully on.

A teacher calling on him just to make him feel stupid.

His parents realized he was slipping in his grades and reminded him that he was a failure to the family's intelligence.

Or some random GIW agent that "banished" him from his Earth, flinging Danny straight across the universe to whatever hellhole Gotham crawled out of.

He barely got this bartending job only a few weeks ago- lying about his age which he thinks his boss doesn't care about- and using a shade of an old bartender to coach him in mixology.

Shades were different from ghosts. For one thing, they were weaker and unable to be seen by regular people. They could not interact with the world and often didn't even know they were dead. If Danny had been able to see them before the portal, he would have known they were the cause of what is commonly known as a "ghost."

They were the myths.

Jeff Ricci is Shade, one who is aware he died. He was killed in a gang shoot-out a few years after he and his sister ran away from an abusive home. They traveled through three states, dodging police and CPS, before they disappeared among Gotham's homeless population.

The pair of siblings survived for a while doing odd jobs for local gangs- things like drug runs or helping them move guns- which is why Jeff was out there the night the fight broke out.

It was an imperfect stroke of luck, the wrong place and time. The two had been doing so well, too. They had both gotten jobs at the Iceberg Lounge, lying about their ages, where Jeff was a dishwasher, and Lucia was a housekeeper.

After hours, Jeff was taught by his coworkers how to properly mix drinks, waiting for Lucia to finish her job. When the two turned eighteen, Lucia became a waitress, and Jeff joined the bar- though if anyone asked or checked their employee records, both were twenty-one.

With better pay and hours, they could rent an apartment, finally gaining a home after three years of homelessness. Jeff had lived in that home for only a month when he accepted a job to buy Lucia some migraine medication and had perished.

Lucia lived on without her twin, broken far more than before, but she still had the apartment and job at the Iceberg Lounge. She was unaware her brother still followed her around, watching her actaully turn twenty-one while he remained eighteen.

That's how Danny met him, a somewhat see-through man casually following one of the prettiest waitresses. He had assumed he was being a creep, but Jeff had been delighted that someone could not only see him but was willing to protect his sister by threatening him away from her.

In exchange for lessons on proper mixing, Jeff asked Danny to keep an eye on his sister. Help her when he could not. It was a fair trade from one younger brother to another.

The shade is currently leaning against the counter beside Danny, staring at him as though Danny was a god. "You scare the Joker. Shit, Danny, I knew you were some kind of Rouge in the making, but to take out heavy hitters like this before your debut!? That's just terrifying! Would you be willing to pay my sister to be your secretary or something? She's a great typer!"

What a strange place Gotham is.

[sturnioz]

Wait guys.. I had to put it here cause I have no one else to share this with but IMAGINE shy!reader getting a drink from her friend and doesn’t know its drugged so she gets insanely down bad for fratboy!chris and he knows better than to take advantage of her so he takes her to his room to sober her up with water and puts her to sleep and as he’s about to go back to the party she grabs his wrist and mumbles an ‘i love you, be safe’ and he’s all confused.

kinda changed this req up a little to fit their story, hope you dont mind <3

you hardly ever drink at frat parties — maybe just one here and there — but you prefer to keep it minimal, all thanks to chris who likes to ruin your fun (actually, you prefer not to drink, but sometimes you like blaming him just to see the look on his face when you do). but tonight, however, you decide to let yourself loose and have a few with your friend, and now a strange feeling envelops you.

a warm, fuzzy sensation spreads through your limbs, but it's quickly overshadowed by rising nausea and spinning dizziness. you stumble through the busy frat house, packed with rowdy students and faces you barely recognise. your friend reaches out to steady you, her voice laced with concern, but a strangled noise escapes your throat as you weakly push her away.

you legs feel like jelly, unsteady beneath you, as you navigate through the crowd, ignoring her drunken pleas to stay close. with each unbalanced step you take, the world around you blurs, and the energy of the frat house feels unbelievably overwhelming.

it all comes crashing down when you catch sight of chris in the kitchen, his confident grin lighting up the room as he hands something discreetly to some student, giving them a sly wink as he takes their money. a knot tightens in your stomach, and you wobble in his direction, your vision blurring and head spinning as the tears of frustration well in your eyes, a mix of confusion of not knowing what's going on and the overwhelming feelings.

chris double takes when he notice you — hearing you crash into someone accidentally, the sharp words of an annoyed stranger cutting through the noise as you babble your apologies, your slurred speech punctuated by a hiccup. without a second thought for the person he was dealing to, chris swoops in front of you, his hands gripping your cheeks, forcing you to meet his intense stare.

"fuck did you do? huh?" he immediately asks, his voice low and fierce, jaw clenched tightly. his eyebrows knit together as he studies your face, taking in the way your pupils are dilated, and a scoff escapes his lips. "you... y'took somethin', kid? you fuckin' serious?"

"n-noo, didn't," you slur your words, shaking your head quickly, the motion making the room spin even more as the rest of your words come out in a jumbled rush. "didn't.. i swear — prommm'se. dunno w'as happenin'."

"you.. you didn't take anythin'?" chris asks in disbelief, blinking at you as you nod your head again, letting out a gargled whine, your hands reaching out to grip his arms as your balance wavers.

instinctively, he shifts his hands from your cheeks to your waist, steadying yourself against him, and you can feel the warmth of his body through the fabric of your clothes, offering the slightest of comforts.

he prods his cheek with his tongue, clearly trying to process the situation as his brow furrows deeper, "right, right.. so uh, how are you fuckin' drugged, kid?"

"didnt take anythin'!!" you slur out again, the panic rising in your chest. tears brim in your eyes as strange sensations rush through your body, a disorientating mix of hot and cold. you hate how your brain feels all out of whack. "all — all i 'ad was a drink, and—"

"a drink?" chris cuts you off sharply. "who gave you the drink?"

"m'friend got it from another guy.." you blink repeatedly, trying to clear the blurriness that clouds your vision. "don' feeeel good, chris."

an almost frightening smile stretches across chris' lips as the realisation of what's happening hits him. anger simmers just beneath the surface, and he nods slowly, his eyes scanning the party like a predator with its prey.

his nostrils flare as he takes in the chaotic scene, his jaw locked. with a sharp sniff, he scrunches up his nose, grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator before wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding your sluggish body out of the kitchen and up the staircase to his room.

he carefully sits you down on the edge of the bed, and without a word, he unscrews the cap off the water bottle, bringing it to your lips. you sip slowly, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat, each swallow a small relief against the nausea.

"gonna... gonna need you to drink this f'me, yeah? all of it — make y'feel better, kid. promise."

"where.. you going?" you ask, your voice trembling slightly as you frown, water droplets trickling own your chin. your hands curl around his wrist, gripping tightly in fear that he would disappear.

"m'gonna go find out who's been fuckin' with the drinks, kid. gonna... gonna teach 'em not to.. to fuck around, y'know?" chris tells you, a slight scary edge to his tone that makes your frown deepen. "doin' this to keep you safe, bun."

"safe?" you murmur softly, and chris nods his head firmly. "'kay... safe." you reluctantly release his wrist, sinking down deeper into the plush pillows, hoping the comforting softness will help calm the raging storm in your head. "m'love yo.. b'safe."

"what?" chris blinks, his brows knitting together in confusion and disbelief as he stares down at you. he pulls a face, unsure if he's heard you correctly, and shakes his head with a loud, incredulous scoff.

his heart thrums uncomfortably in his chest, and he bites down hard on his cheek as he hesitantly tugs the blanket up to your shoulders, making sure you're warm and comfortable before he scratches his slightly stubbled jaw, lips pursed deep in thought as he steps backwards, giving you one last look over before leaving the bedroom, ensuring that the door is shut, searching for his frat brothers — searching for matt.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Little Girl Gone

Been a While Since My Head Was This Polluted (3)

Mob Boss!Natasha x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader, Mommy!Wanda Maximoff x Mob Boss!Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!, Starts with smut, some angst, and a lot of fluff. There are depictions of abuse (physical and s*xual) please read at your own caution, knife play, Dark!Daddy!Natasha, Nat has a dick, use of a whip, breeding, Nat doesn't give aftercare, Wanda does help with aftercare.

Word count: 3.3K

A/N: I normally don't write Nat like this, and it was actual hard given my own past, but in this story, Nat is the bad guy, unfortunately for her.

Your knees ached as a harsh slap came across your face, a wet pop as her cock fell out of your mouth leaving you gaping and drooling. You stared up at her, eyes hazy and glossy. You’d allowed yourself to fall into subspace just so you didn’t have to think about it anymore.

“I know you can do better than that slut.” Natasha growls, gripping your cheeks and pulling you back onto her cock. She holds the back of your head still while she pounds against your face, gagging and choking on her member as she hits the back of your throat. Drool falling onto your tits and lap. A different wetness pooling between your legs. 

You hated Natasha and how she treated you, you truly did, but still your body reacted like this because she had trained it to do so. As much as you tried to stop it she still held this power over you. You could tell she was getting close and as your braced yourself to take her load down your throat she pulled out. Looking up at her once again she looked down at you with anger as she gripped your hair, not giving you a chance as she started to pull you by your hair to the bed. 

The sensation burned against your scalp as you stumbled and struggled to keep up with Natasha as she threw you against the bed. You heard the familiar sound of her knife making your eyes widen.

“N-Nat-“ Her knife against your throat in an instant. Eyes wide and cold looking insane as she stared at you.

“That’s not my name.” She pushed the knife further against your throat; terrifying you.

“Daddy! Daddy! I’m sorry!” The knife was pulled back slightly as she smiled down at you.

“Good slut.” She let the knife scrap against your skin, not enough to cut just enough to leave raised red lines across your skin. It’s not like she had never actually cut into you, because she had and you still look at the scars everyday. 

“D-Daddy...c-can we not use the k-knife?” your voice wavers and she stops a moment before letting the knife dig in ever so slightly making you yelp in pain.

“You aren’t supposed to be thinking big thoughts right now.” She pulls away, letting the knife fall while she goes off to grab something. When you looked you noticed exactly what she had pulled out; a whip. Fumbling back slightly at the memories of her using that on you. “Stomach. Now.” When you hesitate she flip's you herself sending down a harsh impact which would definitely leave its mark as will all subsequent hits as she grabs your hips, pulling you towards the edge of the bed so she can plow into you. 

As her hips move at a painful force, stretching you out painfully as she continued the assault on your back you cried out, tears streaming down your face. 

“S-sorry Daddy...m’sorry....please Dadddy!” You mumble out the only coherent thing you can manage as she continues until she’s grunting and moaning over you. The whipping has stopped only to be replaced with her much cooler body against your hot back feeling a bit of relief until her mouth starts biting into your skin, leaving their own marks as you scream out.

“Mmmm love hearing your screams baby girl and those tears of yours are more beautiful than ever. Fuck you’re gonna make Daddy cum. You’re gonna take all of it like a good girl right? Daddy’s gonna fill you up and breed that pretty pussy till it’s all full.” She growled in your ear, biting along your neck.

“Yes Daddy! Daddy!”Was all you could manage in hopes that once this was over it would be over as you felt her fill you up and groaning. It had been so long since you had felt that as Natasha pulled your face to kiss you roughly as she continued to cum inside of you, biting her bottom lip roughly, tugging as you tasted her blood in your mouth. Smirking as you pulled away from her. Her blood in your mouth and dribbling down your chin. She was pissed off until she saw that look on your face and it turned into one of her seeming almost impressed.

“Ready for round 2?” She smirked and your face paled. You should have known Natasha was never satisfied with one round.

============================

You managed to stumble into your room, not even really noticing Wanda until she was at your side. Her words didn’t register at first since aftercare wasn’t something Natasha didn’t care for you were still trying to pull yourself together. Wanda gently pulled your face to meet hers as she took in all the marks she could see and you took her in. 

“Y/N did Natasha do this to you? Did she hurt you?” Wanda’s words finally becoming clear to you. Words were hard right now as you took Wanda gently by just her pointer finger, tugging gently back to the bed. Moving the book she had been reading out of the way as you got onto the bed and so did she. 

You looked at Wanda for a moment looking into her eyes and she cupped your swollen cheek. “Did she hurt you because of me?” You shook your head. Pushing lightly on her shoulder until she laid back and you gently and carefully cuddled up against her side. You let out a shaky sigh of relief as you breathed in Wanda’s scent of vanilla. As careful as Wanda tried to be with holding you recognizing that you needed it in this moment though every touch hurt it did still bring you comfort as you closed your eyes. 

Wanda starts singing softly, a lullaby, you assume at least since she’s singing in Russian which you’d recognize anywhere now. You’d only ever been yelled at in Russian, but Wanda made the harsh words that had normally been thrown at you so soft, you could almost fall asleep like this.

Eventually as you slowly come out of subspace thanks to Wanda you tighten your grip on her, looking up at her and she gives you a soft smile,

“Hi...welcome back dorogoya.” You give a small smile back.

“I’m sorry about that...”Wanda shakes her head.

“No don’t none of that. Whatever it is that you did you did an amazing job Dorogoya. You needed to rest a bit and that is perfectly okay. I’m here for you. You saved me and my boys so the least I can do is be your pillow while you come back to reality.” Wanda cups your cheek so gently, in a way that you aren’t used to and you’re half expecting a slap to come, but it doesn’t all Wanda does is gently rub circles with her thumb.

“Thank you then. I appreciate it.” 

“We still need to clean your wounds. I didn’t want to bother you before you were ready, but your shirt is sticking to you by blood. We need to wash your face too. Come on lets go to the bathroom. I saw the big first aid kit you have in there.” Wanda helps you up. “Come on Dorogoya. I’ve got you.” You almost forgot what it’s like to be doted on by a mom. 

She gets you to sit on the lip of the tub which is 1. Huge, and 2. Surrounded by its own ceramic tiling so sitting there wasn’t so dangerous. 

She helped get you out of your shirt and tank top which hurt immensely as the half dried blood stuck to the shirt, making the wounds all reopen. 

“Fuck.” You hissed as Wanda coos and soothes you back down. Getting a warm, damp towel for your back. You grip your hands into fists and cruse Natasha for this and then yourself for allowing it to happen. 

“What did she do?” Wanda asks trying to distract you.

“She agreed to leave you alone if I slept with her one last time.” You admit to the red head.

“And you said no that’s why you’re so beat up, right?” You don’t answer and you don’t dare look at her. You know you’ll break if you do. “Right, Y/N?” You shake your head. “What do you mean no?” She gently pulls your chin to look at her. “She did this to you while...” Wanda’s voice trails off when she sees the the tears welling up in your eyes. 

“I did this so it doesn’t happen to you. I won’t let her touch you. Ever.” Your hand finds her thigh and grips. “I promise. Even when you and the boys leave. I won’t let her. If she ever did....I’d kill her.” A heat rises in your chest, anger. You’d never been angry at anything Natasha did to you, but the thought of her doing those same things to Wanda? To the boys? Your blood boiled at the thought. 

“Y/N....dorogoya...” She cupped both your cheeks letting your foreheads rest against each others. “I don’t ever want to see you like this again because of her or anyone else for that matter. Seeing you walk in like that scared me. I was so worried especially seeing all that blood on you. I was so worried. I know you don’t want to see me like this, but I also don’t want to see you like this now that I have and I know how it makes me feel.” Wanda’s voice was breathy and full of emotion. Tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as her thumbs rubbed against your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful. I promise.” You lean into one of her hands, closing your eyes as you move against it. 

“Thank you. Now let’s finish getting you all cleaned up.” Wanda smiles blinking away the tears as she starts working again. 

You couldn’t properly put into words how appreciative you were of Wanda taking care of you, giving you the after care you needed desperately in that moment.

As she bandaged you all up she helped you put on some loose and comfy pajamas already saying, ‘work is done for today. Carol can handle it.’ Which made you laugh as the two of you headed to the kitchen. 

=============================

“Oh I am so going to kick your ass!” You call out as you clicked a button letting the blue shell go hitting Tommy in game as you passed him and took first place. Jumping up and doing a little victory dance. 

“Y/N could you go easy on them? They’re children.” Wanda calls over her shoulder from the other side of the room where she was reading a comic.

“Sorry Wands Mario Kart is a cruel game and you must learn at a young age patawan.” You smirked at Tommy grabbing him in a hold and giving him a noogie as he tried to squirm away.

“I’m gonna win next time!” Tommy called out.

“You’re on little man.” You look over at Billy. “You want in on this round mister man?” Billy shook his head. He tended to not like competitive games and that was fine with you. 

You play a few more rounds with Tommy until he wins one and that’s enough for him before he’s whining over the couch, “Mom what’s for dinner?” He asks and Wanda looks up and at you.

“Why are you looking at me?” 

“Don’t you have cooks and maids? Shouldn’t you know what they’re making?” She asks and you shrug. 

“They cook what I ask them to. I don’t eat much so they always wait until I go and ask. They give me a few options and I either pick from them or I tell them what I want.” You look at the boys who have mischievous looks on their faces. “No you are not allowed to ask for desserts for dinner. Proper dinner boys!” You call after them as they rush out the door  and you hear them both go “Awww man...” You and Wanda share a laugh as she sets the comic down on the table and gets up. 

“Let’s go make sure they don’t bribe the cooks.” Wanda says as she walks past you. 

It’s been a week now since she’s been here. Natasha has left you both alone for the time being. Wanda hadn’t mentioned anything about wanting to leave, but after that night with Natasha she always hugged you before you left saying, ‘Be safe. We’re here waiting for you to come home safe.’ It warmed your heart to know Wanda was thinking of your house as home.

As the two of you walk down the long hallway to the kitchen your hands brush against each other. You notice Wanda pull back slightly with a blush on her face and you bite your lip before reaching out to hold her hand. Letting your fingers lace together. You look over at her and smile, she gives you a smile back. 

“Is this okay?” You ask.

“Yeah...this is okay...more than okay...” She reassures you, not letting go until you two are just at the kitchen’s threshold, the twins trying to convince the cooks to cook them some sweet treat filled dish that Wanda sighs and goes to put an end to it as you lean against the big kitchen island, watching the domestic moment, wanting to join in on it, but holding yourself back. 

“How about tendies and fries!?” You finally call out when the boys continue to try various ideas.

“Heck yeah!” Tommy calls out fist bumping the air.

“Yes! Can we do nuggets too?” Billy asks and you smile, walking over and ruffling his hair lovingly. 

“Of course mister man.” You smile at the boys and look at the cooks. “Tendies, nuggets, and fries tonight.” 

“Ma’am which kind of fries?” The head cook asks and you look at the boys.

“Curly.” Tommy says.

“Steak!” Billy overlaps with his brother.

“Shoestring.” You add after the boys and smile at the cooks before looking at Wanda. “Would you like anything sweetie or are you okay with the choices made?” Wanda smiles at you before requesting if she could cook her own dinner. “Of course you can sweetie. If that’s what you want to do. I’d love to try some of your cooking.” Wanda gives you a sweet smile before heading off with the cooks to see what was laying around as you watch her work while the boys run off to some fun corner of the house knowing they’d be called by one of the workers around the house once dinner was ready. 

Wanda pulled her hair back into a half up do with a bun and pulled her sleeves up while she pulled out different ingredients while she did so you felt the presence of someone behind you. 

When you looked you found Maya. The almost permeant scowl on her face was gone momentarily as you signed, “What’s got you smiling?” 

“Made a good deal. We can talk after dinner. Just wanted to let you know I was back safe.” She signed back putting a hand on your shoulder, but Maya knew you better as you stood and hugged her. With your back turned to Wanda you didn’t notice the look she gave the, to you, seemingly small act of affection you tended to hand out amongst your found family.

=============================

The two of you are on opposite sides of the bed, the overhead lights have long since been shut off, but your bedside lamps created a soft glow across the room and the only noises to be heard were your clicking of keys against your laptop, going over some documents that had been sent your way for review. Every so often the turning of a page from Wanda’s side. 

You pushed your blue light glasses up, rubbing your eyes and let out a yawn. You’d been at this for hours and felt like you barely made a dent since you had neglected them all weekend. 

“Y/N?” You hear Wanda’s voice carry through the quiet room, turning your head to look at the woman you some how found yourself sharing a bed with. She took you looking at her as enough to continue. “That woman who came home just before dinner, is she like your girlfriend or something?” She asks with such a confidence and even a hint of jealousy that it makes you reel back a bit before you can even respond to the older woman.

“No. That’s Maya, she runs things with me. We were both in similar situations where we were used by someone else and in wanting to prove ourselves now find ourselves in charge of our own families now.” You take the laptop, setting it aside as you move closer to Wanda. “Maya and I found each other at probably our lowest points and if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be where I am now. I owe her a great deal and vice versa, but there’s nothing between us. I’m just...I tend to remind everyone that it’s okay to still have emotions because Natasha tried to take that from me. She tried to take everything from me Wanda and I won’t let that happen to anyone I know. Everyone who follows me is allowed to feel whatever feelings they have. Anger, sadness, happiness, love...” 

You find your eyes flicking between Wanda’s eyes and her lips. How could you even begin to think of anyone besides her? Sure the two of you weren’t together, but you found yourself sharing a bed. She’d see you off in the mornings, she’d give you hugs and chaste kisses on the cheek upon your arrival home, she’d help clean your wounds. 

Wanda had wormed her way into your life in such a short time and she had you thinking about her constantly, you loved coming home where as you slipped off your shoes and suit jacket she’d round the corner to embrace you. Her warmth enveloping your whole being as her now familiar scent of vanilla bringing comfort to every fiber of your being. 

“Y/N?” Wanda’s voice brought you back, making you take notice of how close you had brought yourself. A red flush covering Wanda’s cheeks. Instinctively you reach out to cup her cheek. 

“How could I even think of wanting someone else when the most beautiful woman sleeps beside me every night?” You raise an eyebrow at her, your voice filled with confidence. You don’t think about it much before you let your lips connect. She’s so soft against your own as you feel her arms wrap around you, pulling you on top of her as she leans back. Your lips move against each other and you hear a soft moan from her. 

You pull back, making her chase your lips momentarily before she gives up with a whine. You smirked down at her, leaning back in to kiss her forehead. 

“If you want more you can have all the kisses you want.” You whisper against her forehead, she nuzzles against your cheek a smile playing on her lips. “If you want me that is...” 

“Of course I want you Y/N...why would you doubt that?” Her voice waivers a bit as you pull back to look her in the eyes.

“Wanda, I’m the head of a mafia family. My whole life screams nothing, but danger. You have two ten year old boys to take care of-“ You’re cut off by Wanda kissing you once more, your train of thought completely derailed.

“You said it yourself Y/N there is no safer place than with you.” Wanda reminded you of your words. You look into her green eyes finding nothing, but love in them, feeling her fingertips run over the scars on your back. 

She knows what’s she’s getting into. You know she does, and yet you are all she wants. There is no hesitation in her actions or words. So you have no choice but to let yourself fall into her.

[ayyy-pee]

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Story Summary: Following his mothers passing, Nanami inherits his family's rundown bakery. With the bakery on its last leg, Nanami reluctantly takes on the task of trying to save what his family has worked to keep for decades, but he can't do it alone.

Genre: Bakery/Coffee Shop AU

Warnings: Workaholic meanie Nanami, employee x boss relationship, but also enemies to lovers, death, grief/mourning, profanity, jealousy, fluff, angst, Nanami owns a bakery, parental loss, Nanami is bad at feelings, I don’t know if I’ll do smut for this one but sexual tension, mutual pining, Nanami is sort of an asshole here

Art by: Ilameys + (Unknown artist (right pic). I'd love to credit the artist so if you know who it is, please let me know!)

Chapter 2 - Wienerbrød

Chapter Summary: You try to bake something new!

You kick your shoes off as you enter your apartment. With your phone wedged between your ear and your shoulder, you groan in irritation as you storm into your living room.

“I’m telling you, Shoko. This guy is such a fucking asshole. Shut me down the second I asked him a simple question,” you’re ranting as you flop down onto your couch. “He’s got to be the most pessimistic person I’ve ever met. He did nothing but pick apart the entire bakery and tell me how shitty it was, tried to establish some strange dominance thing in the kitchen after offering me the job… the kitchen,” you stress dramatically, wavering your arms as if Shoko can see you. “My domain! Can you believe him? He doesn’t give a shit about the actual bakery. He’s a total businessman type. Stiff, boring as hell and a dick. I don’t know why I said yes to the position. I’m going to hate my life.”

You exhale sharply once you’ve finished your tirade. On the other end of the line, you hear your friend inhale deeply. You didn’t have to ask to know she was sucking on a cigarette, likely almost finished with it and prepping her second, maybe third. After a short beat of silence, you hear her exhale. “Hmm, is he hot at least?”

“Extremely,” you admit through gritted teeth, rubbing away the tension quickly forming between your brows. “That’s the worst part.”

You hate to think it, you loathe to admit it, but Nanami was so very fucking attractive, like stupid hot and it pissed you off! Those thick arms practically bulging through his dress shirt, those veins that exposed themselves and ran enticingly along his forearms when he rolled his sleeves up. His chiseled features, those sharp cheekbones, even his frown was attractive. And god, you didn’t even want to think about his waist. 

Anyone with eyes could see Nanami Kento was an insanely beautiful man, modelesque even. But it only served to piss you off more. His constant gloomy attitude was so off-putting, it almost took away from his beauty, like a rain cloud threatening to cover a blue sky.

“Anyway,” you sigh, putting a stop to your own thoughts as you stare up at the ceiling.  “That’s beside the point, Shoko. He’s an asshole, but it’s obvious he needs help to get his bakery up and running. I think it’s family owned. He told me that he grew up in the bakery. Seemed miserable about it, though.”

“Interesting,” Shoko manages, though she sounds rather disinterested. “Well if he had to pick anyone, he definitely hired the best person for the job. You’re annoyingly positive.”

“Okay, rude.”

“I just mean you’ll balance his negativity well. Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?”

You hum, your mind already accepting your fate. “I guess you’re right.”

“You know I am. The guy clearly needs help and you love this kind of thing - taking something old, miserable and rundown and making it loveable again.”

You hum again, listening as Shoko blows out another breath of smoke. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll do the same for the bakery, too.”

“Right. Wait– what?”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” She says, voice light with humor. The line goes dead and you roll your eyes at your friends comments as you let the day's events wash over you. Nanami said he wanted to sample some of your desserts on Monday and see some new recipes. You can do that.

The moment you’d stepped into the bakery’s kitchen, your mind raced with possibilities. You felt at home there. The kitchen felt like it had been loved, like it was properly used and cared for, albeit old and a little rundown. That was okay. It gave the kitchen personality and you loved that. You wanted to continue giving the kitchen the love it deserved.

Nanami told you he’d grown up in that kitchen, but he truly seemed to hate even being in the building. You tried to picture a chubby little blonde boy with his arms crossed and a scowl etched across his face standing in the kitchen covered in flour and icing. Adorable, but definitely not the man you’d met today. You wondered how it came to be that he now owned this bakery when he seemed to despise it.

And you wondered if there was a way to get him to learn to love it again.

You shake your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t your job to turn his frown upside down, so to speak. It was your job to make sure the bakery was successful as it’s Head Baker and that’s what you intended to do.

- - - - - -

The weekend came and went just as quickly and now you find yourself standing in the kitchen of the bakery with Nanami as the sun barely begins to rise over the city. You pile your notebooks onto the large metal table in the center of the room. Nanami reaches over, taking the notebook sitting atop the stack.

“Are these your recipes?” He asks, flipping through the pages.

“Yep. These are some pastries I created on a whim. I was thinking we could go through and select what you like, maybe tweak some so that they fit more of the vibe you’re going for with the bakery. Or are there any pastries you’d like to keep from the previous owner?” 

Nanami’s dark eyes shoot up from the notebook to look at you. You hold his gaze, trying to find anything behind those eyes aside from the clear hatred he holds for this bakery, but you don’t. It’s frustrating.

“No,” is all he says.

“Okay…well, we can start from scratch then. Let me know what you see that you may like.”

Nanami replies with something between a grunt and a hum. “I’ll review a few of these and will follow up. If you want to get comfortable and organize the kitchen to your liking, go ahead. Please try and have a sample pastry ready within the next few hours.”

He turns to go into his office without so much as a look back.

You sigh, trying to get used to this silence you were sure you’d be working in everyday whether Mr. Nanami was there or not. You couldn’t wait to establish a menu so you could bring staff on. At least then you wouldn’t feel so alone.

You wander through the kitchen with a notepad, looking through all of the smallwares and jotting down what you see in case you need to place an order. There seems to be many of the supplies you need here already and in good condition - spatulas, mixing bowls, flour sifters, icing tips. The bakeware also seems to be well supplied with an array of bread pans, muffin tins and cake pans. This place was fully stocked as far as you could tell. 

You shuffle over to where three mixer appliances sit on a counter against the wall, setting your notepad down to inspect them. They’re a little older, but they turn on and mix just fine. You’d bet they mixed better than some of the newer models. You decide you’ll keep them.

As you lean one of the mixers over to check its condition, you find a small booklet lying underneath the stand. You pick it up, gently setting the mixer back down before you open it to inspect it. It’s a tiny black leatherbound journal with very faded gold lettering in a language you definitely don’t know.

And you? Well, you’re nosey as hell, so you carefully peel back the cover, taking in the elegant writing etched onto the first page.

To my baby boy

There’s some strange writing scrawled beneath this in what looks like English letters. You can’t really tell, but it seems to be some message in whatever language this is. You turn a couple of pages and let your eyes roam over what’s written within. The rest of the pages you can read fairly easily as they’re in English. You can see immediately that these are recipes. The booklet is full of pastry dishes, both sweet and savory. They appear to be foreign pastries and you feel your heart race with excitement as you imagine making them because while you were adventurous with your baking, you’re positive you haven’t tried to make any of these. 

And Nanami did want to sample your baking, so why not give him something he’s not going to see in your portfolio?

Eagerly, you begin moving through the rest of the kitchen equipment, taking out what you need to begin.

- - - - - -

The kitchen is full with the smell of fresh dough baking. The quiet hum of the ovens working calms you as you sift through the recipe in the booklet you’d found earlier. You decided to make one of your original creations while also trying your hand at this new mystery pastry in case Mr. Nanami liked both…or one…or none. Shit, you didn’t want to imagine him not liking either.

You stare down at the ingredients already in the mixing machines.

“Alright. So, water, 2 large eggs, a teaspoon of salt, unsalted butter, active dry yeast…” You read through the remaining list of ingredients until you reach the end. “And now…flour?” You squint down at the notebook, the words scribbled messily on the paper, time having faded the ink. You can’t really make out the measurements written out. It looks like 2 ½ cups. You’ll try it and hey, if it doesn’t work, you’ll simply adjust the recipe to find the right mix. Easy.

Just as you’re sorting through the measuring cups, Nanami emerges from his office with your journals, mouth set in its usual hard line as he makes his way to you. He sets the books down, and you swear you see him inhale the sweet scent of the pastries currently baking in the oven before softly exhaling. You open your mouth to say something before quickly shutting it because he’s back to business in about .02 seconds. You really can’t read this guy, so you don’t try to. You redirect your focus back on to your task.

“These look good,” he tells you, his finger tapping on the book stacked on top. “I placed a post-it note on the recipes I think may work for the soft opening, but I’d like for you to make a sample of them beforehand. Maybe just a few a day.”

You nod, acknowledging his request but far too focused on scooping your guesstimate of flour. Nanami eyes you carefully, brown eyes staring as you carefully run your finger over the top of the flour. The excess falls carelessly onto the table and just before you pour it in, Nanami speaks, his voice halting your movements.

“What are you making now?”

“Hmm?” You ask, glancing over at him. “Oh, something called…” you peer down at the booklet, “Wee-ner-brod?” You’re one hundred percent positive you butchered that pronunciation, but how do you even pronounce ‘wienerbrød’? 

Clearly Nanami knows because he surprisingly lets out an amused chuckle before he asks, “Wienerbrød?” With what you assume is perfect pronunciation. And you’re not sure why, but the sound of his deep baritone laugh makes your stomach twist in a strangely pleasant way.

“Yes! That!” You point to Nanami with your free finger. “I’m making…” you stumble your way through the pronunciation again and get another small laugh from Mr. Nanami which makes your own lips curl up in a smile.

“I didn’t know you knew how to make Danish pastries.”

“I don’t, but you don’t learn without trying.”

“True. What step are you on now?” Nanami asks curiously, coming up to stand next to you. This close to him, you can truly see just how large he is. Not to mention, he smells incredible. You ignore the way the mix of the aroma of baked goods and his cologne almost makes your eyes want to roll back. You’d never smelled something so tantalizing before.

Nanami calls your name and you clear your throat, trying to re-focus.

“Oh, um…well I’ve added mostly everything and now I need to incorporate the flour - about 2 ½ cups.”

“Your calculation is off.” He affirms gently, eyeing the measuring cup in your hand.

You snort, “Are you suddenly an expert in Danish baking or something?”

“I can throw a few things together.” He says and you peek over to see him rolling the sleeves of his very nice (and probably very expensive) shirt up to his elbows. Your eyes roam over, drinking in the sight of those thick veins that you couldn’t get out of your head over the weekend protruding from his forearms, the way his muscles flex with the slightest movement and you wonder for a moment what it would be like to grab onto those arms while he –

“As I was saying,” Nanami’s quiet voice interrupts your reverie. “2 ½ cups is close, but you actually need 2 ¾ cups for this recipe.” He reaches in front of you to grab a ¾ measuring cup and again, you’re assaulted with the scent of his cologne. Your mind erupts with thoughts of nothing appropriate for an employee to be thinking about their boss, but you can’t help it!

You blame it on that damn smile of his and that laugh. It’s thrown you off of your game.

Nanami takes the measuring cup you’re holding and replaces it with another. “You also need to use your hands to mix this.”

You might faint.

“Is that…” you lick your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. “Is that completely necessary?”

Nanami slowly adds small amounts of flour into the mixer bowl while kneading with his other hand. “It’s time consuming, of course, but it allows for more control over the dough. You can feel the dough's texture…if it’s too dry or if it’s too wet. From there you can determine if more water or more flour is needed.” You watch as his brows furrow in concentration, a little surprised by his knowledge around dough. Though it shouldn’t be surprising given that he grew up in this very same bakery. Of course he’d know.

And once again, your stomach does somersaults.

Damnit, he was definitely going to need to stay out of the kitchen if you were going to stay employed here.

As Nanami continues working through the recipe, you chat idly about general things. He tells you a bit about his time as a businessman, but doesn’t elaborate on what exactly led him to own a bakery. And you tell him a bit about yourself, trying to keep the conversation light as this was the most you’d both interacted since your interview and you’re surprised by how well it’s going. You don’t want to ruin it by poking and prodding.

As the conversation goes on, you watch him very carefully as he works the dough, ignoring the way your heart races watching him do the very thing you do almost daily.

“The end result should be somewhat sticky,” he states.

And oh god, something was getting sticky alright…and it lay between your legs. Your eyes are glued to the bulging muscles of Nanami’s forearms working the flour into a thick doughy substance between his large, thick fingers. Your gaze moves up his stupidly sexy arms, to his biceps straining against his shirt and you imagine him flexing so hard, it rips to shreds, falling in tatters to the floor. The cartoonish image almost makes you want to laugh. And you would have if your eyes hadn’t continued their journey, higher to his tight shoulders moving in circles as he presses his palms into the dough. Higher to the tension in his jaw, the muscles rippling as he grits his teeth with focus. The kitchen suddenly feels unbearably hot and you’re not sure if it’s the ovens running causing the temperature to rise or the view in front of you.

Nanami had never mentioned he knew how to bake. But why would he? It was your job to know. You also never thought to ask after the sour note your interview ended on despite you still being offered the position. You could not stand him upon first meeting and now here you were practically drooling into this batter over how incredibly sexy he was when he was baking.

Nanami slowly pours flour in again as he kneads the dough with expert precision. The way he grips it in his hands, the way his fingers deftly sprinkle flour into the mix. You wonder what else those big hands can do.

The oven timer dings and you snap out of your lewd thoughts, pretty sure sweat is forming on your forehead from your fantasies. You spin around quickly to slide on oven mitts before you pull the pans from the oven. You’d chosen to make miniature fruit tarts with a vanilla pastry cream. A simple recipe, but absolutely to die for. Setting the tray down, you return to Nanami’s side just as he finishes kneading the dough.

And you try to hide the frown pulling at the corner of your lips when you realize you’d lost your perfect view.

He moves to the sink to wash the remaining dough from his hands, returning with plastic wrap to cover the mixing bowl. “I hope you weren’t planning on completing that today,” He says before turning to head toward the walk-in refrigerator. When he emerges, you shoot him a questioning look.

“I was going to let the dough rise for a few hours while I worked on some other things.”

He hums in acknowledgment, but shakes his head. “For this dough, you need to do a long rise for the best result. Overnight is best.”

“Okay, you’re the expert Danish pastry baker apparently,” you tease, earning you another small chuckle from him and you feel your face heat up at the sound.

What is with you today?

“How did you come up with the idea to make Wienerbrød anyway?” He questions suddenly. “Just seems a bit random given what recipes you’d given me to review.”

“Oh!” You rush back over to the mixers excitedly and grab the booklet, holding it up for Nanami to see, a wide grin on your face. “I found this under one of the mixers. It has some strange language I can’t read in the front of it…I’m assuming it’s Danish? But some delicious sounding recipes from what I could understand when I skimmed through. I decided this would be a good idea to take myself out of my comfort zone to try something new.”

Nanami takes a step forward, squinting hard at the little journal in your hands. Suddenly, his eyes widen slightly and he snatches the book from your hold. He opens it to the first page, where the foreign message is scrawled down before he snaps the book shut, his lips pursing in displeasure.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs in clear irritation. “Next time you find something that is very clearly a personal belonging, please bring it to me before you take it upon yourself to poke through something that isn’t yours,” he snaps, his voice clipped.

The shift in tone takes you aback.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Mr. Nanami. It just seemed to belong to someone who knew their way around baking so I–”

“I didn’t ask for the reasoning behind your nosiness,” he cuts you off and you feel your own irritation begin to slowly rise. “Is this a habit of yours? Digging through people’s belongings and taking things that aren’t yours?”

You scoff, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “If you’d let me finish, I’m trying to apologize –”

“I don’t want an apology. I want you to show up here, bake and leave. Not spend your time digging through someone else’s belongings.”

You inhale sharply, trying to gather your thoughts. This conversation has taken an unpleasant turn and the last thing you want to do is have a blow up with your boss. You feel like you’ve actually made progress with him today and this feels like a setback waiting to happen.

“Again, Mr. Nanami, that wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to try something new. I had no idea this book…” you wave your hand in his direction. “...would be such a sore spot for you.”

At this, Nanami seems to bristle. “My sore spot,” he stresses the words, “is nosey employees who don’t just do the job I asked them to do. I asked you to make a sample pastry –”

“And I did,” you cut him off, gesturing to your tarts cooling on the table. “And I had enough time to try my hand at something new, which is why I wanted to try something new and present it to you.”

You sigh when Nanami meets your response with silence.

“What’s the issue here? You had no problem with helping me make this until you saw that book,” you say, pointing at the small black journal he holds. Your gazes lock in an intense staredown and even as Nanami annoys you, you can’t help but find his frustratingly pretty brown eyes completely mesmerizing. 

Ugh, stop.

“The issue,” Nanami stresses, “is you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Excuse me? It’s just a recipe book. Why are you so upset about it? Is it yours or something?”

“Again, poking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Mr. Nanami, with all due…respect,” you grit out the last word because he was really starting to piss you off, “if we’re going to be working together as closely as we are, there needs to be some trust here. It’s just a recipe book. I apologize for overstepping, but you can tell me why referencing this book to make Weenerbrod is such a big deal.”

You could swear you see the ghost of a smile on his lips just before he rolls his eyes, correcting your pronunciation of the pastry again, just as he turns his back to you. “You are my employee, I am your employer and that’s it. My helping you to bake a simple bread does not make us friends. Please complete the sample pastries I requested of you and we can reconvene once they’re finished. End of discussion.”

Nanami heads to his office without another word, slamming the door behind him.

You can only watch him disappear from your sight, seething. Left standing in the kitchen alone after yet another faceoff with your new boss, you’re suddenly reminded of your earlier conversation with Shoko.

Just try not to let him walk all over you. You’ve worked with plenty of dickheads before. What’s one more?

You resist going after Nanami and giving him a piece of your mind, instead following his instructions to finish your samples. You won’t push him. Clearly that little book meant something to him and he had no intention of sharing. And he was right. It wasn’t your business to know…

…But you can’t help feeling upset that the light mood of earlier is now gone.

You sigh, ignoring the pit in your stomach as your anger begins to subside. Instead, you move to the walk in refrigerator, gathering the ingredients to make the vanilla cream for your tarts.

Your mind is still racing with the conversation that just took place even as you mix your ingredients and pack the cream into the icing decorating bags. You realize for the first time since meeting Nanami that he wasn’t only this stoic tyrant that enjoys barking orders. He was someone with interests, someone with depth, someone who clearly enjoyed the art of baking the same way you do. You saw the look in his eyes as he guided you through making this pastry. And while you’ve barely known Nanami, you’re familiar with the look on someone’s face when they’ve participated in their passion. He looked…happy. Clearly, there’s more to Nanami than you know.

More to him than what he was willing to show you. For now. 

You’re annoyingly positive.

Shoko’s words make you roll your eyes as they echo in her head. Because you know she’s right.

[dira333]

What's in a scarf - Matsukawa x Reader

A/N: Roommates to lovers, Miscommunication, Angst to Fluff

Requested by @notsochillnerd

The girl is pretty, with soft blond hair and chocolate brown eyes that are now peering up at you.

“Hi?” You ask, stomach swirling with emotion. What is she doing here? Who is she? And, more importantly, who is she to Mattsun?

“Hi,” she chirps, holding out her hand, “I’m Yachi Hitoka.”

Your voice wavers a little when you tell her your name, but if she notices, she doesn’t point it out.

“Do you- uh, are you waiting- do you want something to drink, or?”

“Mattsun should be out any second,” there’s a blush forming on her cheeks as she speaks. Your stomach drops. They must be close if she’s referring to him by his nickname as well. But, doesn’t almost everyone?

“Ah, well, I guess… Do you want some coffee?” You step into the kitchen just to get away from her and the implications of her. You’re still wearing your coat, but you don’t want to go back out where she’s standing. 

You make coffee, more so to distract yourself than to offer her. 

If only Mattsun would reappear from wherever he’s vanished too. 

The universe grants you this wish much too readily for how deaf it has been to your begging in the last months. 

You can hear the front door open, can hear Mattsun’s voice before you see him, or before he sees you.

“There you go, Hitoka-chan,” His voice is warm and filled with affection. When you turn to look at them, your stomach flips. Mattsun’s tying a scarf around the girl’s neck, the color a familiar turquoise. It’s the one he brought back from Seijoh, a custom-made accessory everyone bought. It had been a whim of the Captain in his third year and he’s insanely protective of the piece. To see it wrapped around some other girl's neck makes you choke. You turn back to your coffee, wishing with all your might that it trickles down faster. You need to get out of here.

“Oh,” Mattsun’s voice changes. If it had been warm like a cup of tea before, it’s now smooth and deep and sweet, like drinking molten chocolate. He calls your name. 

“Oh, hey.” You turn around. His brows shoot up at the sight of your forced smile… Or maybe it’s the furrow of your brows that sets him off.

He’s next to you in two big steps. “You okay?” He asks and you nod instead of shaking your head. 

You’re not okay. But he’s got a pretty girl waiting for him, a girl he willingly gives his scarf to, a girl that’s prettier and daintier and just not you.

“I’m fine, just tired. Are you going out?”

“Are you sure?” His hand moves but you step back before he can touch you. Something flickers over his face but you don’t dare to follow it. You turn back to the coffeemaker, fill the drink into your travel mug, and straighten again, presenting it to him like the solution to all of your problems.

“Well, I’ll be going. See you around. Yachi-chan,” You nod in her direction as you rush out of the apartment. 

Actually, you had planned to stay home. You had been dreaming of a cozy evening on the couch all day, the thought of a movie night cuddled up with Mattsun the most heavenly thing. But this isn’t going to be happening. Not tonight, and not in a while, it seems.

And isn’t that just pathetic?

That you can’t even begin to unravel yourself from him, that your mind doesn’t allow the thought of “Not him!” but instead clings to the possibility of “Not now!”?

-

“Are you sure you’re not just overreacting?” Your older sister asks an hour later.

You’re sitting on a park bench outside of the library. This one has the best view, even more so now that the sun is beginning to set and below you, the city turns into a canvas of twinkling lights.

“I’m not overreacting!” You defend yourself immediately. “You know how much this scarf means to him.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the only one in existence. It could be Makki’s or belong to one of the other guys that were on his team.”

“But she was so pretty-” You begin, only to be interrupted by her sigh.

“Haven’t I told you enough times already that you don’t have to worry about that? You’re the only one who thinks you look like a troll.”

“I don’t think I look like a troll.”

“Listen,” your sister’s voice suddenly gets that specific tone that tells you to listen up and behave and you straighten without really wanting to, “You need to go back and talk to him. And if I’m wrong in this, which I am not, you can have that dress of mine you always want to borrow.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

-

The apartment is quiet when you enter. 

A quick check confirms your suspicion, Mattsun isn’t home. 

You busy yourself with doing the laundry and even get rid of a fat spider hiding next to the washing machine. As you take a picture of your confirmed kill, a habit you’ve grown into ever since you moved in with Mattsun, you can’t help but feel the sadness crawl into your bones again.

It’s comfortable, sharing a flat with him. He’s clean, organized and he always pays his bills on time. The only thing he brings home - besides discounted flowers from the funeral home - is Makki and you’ve long grown used to their humor, awful Karaoke session, and the occasional bout of drunken weirdness.

You send the picture anyway, even though you should have let it live. It would serve Mattsun right to stumble across it in the dead of night. 

But still… How can one not fall in love with him? That’s a question you still have not found an answer to.

You resume your task, get back to folding the clean laundry, still warm from the dryer.

Something turquoise peaks out of the mess and you tug at it, half expecting it to be Mattsun’s old team jersey.

But it’s not.

It’s a scarf.

His scarf, you confirm. His mother stitched his first name into it because he kept coming home with more than one, never knowing which one was his.

Your heart stumbles as your mind tries its best to catch on.

If this is his scarf, then….

-

You must have fallen asleep, drained from feeling too many emotions in one single day. You blink against the dim light coming from the kitchen only to realize that there’s a warm hand cradling your cheek.

“Mattsun?” You ask and he hums low in his throat. 

“Hey,” He mumbles, dragging his fingers through your hair, “Are you feeling well?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you try to push yourself up but he settles heavy on your legs, keeping you down. 

“Stay, please?” 

“I can barely see you,” you point out. 

He laughs and maybe it’s the lack of vision that enhances your senses, makes his voice trickle over your skin like the touch of a feather. 

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You huff and cuddle back into the pillows. The Couch lacks the abundance of your bed, but it’s good enough. Something soft is curled around your right arm and you nuzzle into it, recognizing its telltale turquoise color a little too late.

“Ohmygod,” you gasp, trying to untangle yourself from the scarf as quickly as you can, “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Mattsun’s hand is warm on your wrist. “It looked cute how you cuddled with it.”

Heat envelopes your face and you press your face into the scarf to hide from him. 

You’re the master of lying to yourself, of letting insecurity overwhelm you, but even you have to acknowledge that this looks like more than friends.

It feels like more than friends too, has felt like that for months now.

Mattsun’s hand is on your back now, rubbing lazy circles into your skin. He seems to be comfortable sitting on your legs and maybe it’s that, this comfortableness and the fact that you can’t get away, that has you address what needs to be said.

“Mattsun?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you like Yachi-chan?”

“She’s nice,” he tells you quietly, “A little shy but she’s good for Kentaro.”

“Kentaro?”

“Mhm,” his hand stops for a second, “Did you not know-?”

You bite your lip, glad he can’t possibly see your face right now. But his voice is too soft when he speaks on. Either he’s able to see right through the thick fabric of his scarf or he knows you to well.

“Did you think I was dating Hitoka?”

“Maybe?”

His hand leaves your back. His weight leaves your legs. You try to swallow but only meet resistance. 

Suddenly the room is flooded with brightness. You flinch back and blink into the light.

Mattsun’s in the door, hand still on the switch.

“I want you to see my face when I tell you this,” he declares with determination. “I’m in love with you.”

Your heart stops for a beat, only to resume it’s work with double the speed.

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely!” There’s a boyish grin on his face now as he kneels down in front of the couch and pulls your hands out from under the scarf. “Who else will kill all the spiders for me?”

“You’re an idiot!” You scoff, unable to hide your own grin now. 

“But you love me, right?” He asks, peering up at you. “Right?”

You nod, unable to speak. But Mattsun understands anyway.

He eases the scarf from your hands and wraps it around your neck, pulling you close by the ends until there’s nothing but a breath keeping you apart.

“I’d love it if you kissed me now,” he teases.

So you do.

my Kofi if you want to tip me

[missmarveledsblog]

THE BABYSITTING TRAP (18+)

Summary:  the gang made  a plan to set steve up and Y/n hopper up, did they expect it to go so well ?

Warning : smut , soft dom steve , praise kink , daddy kink , hair pulling   , spanking just steve unleashing his inner eddie to be fair . also everything nancy did and tension during season 4 we're just going to pretend it was us instead.  steve being fluffier than his hair . this is 18+ minors not welcome

As far as failed night go , he was starting to think this was possibly could be the best night of his life.  All he had to do was well  tell her how  he felt . which kinda was hard to do watching to move around her trailer wearing his t-shirt  making them popcorn  to watch a movie alone , together . the girl of his dreams , one that stood by everything , one who appreciated him .  little thing she would do told him as much  when they were hanging as group. she stop them teasing him about his failed love life , made sure eddie didn't eat his favourite snacks if he was running late , hell even having his favourite snacks there .  how she would actually listen to what he had to say during the whole upside down situation .  checking his wounds and making sure everything was healing  or cleaned properly.  how when he was pulled under water she was straight in after .. maybe shit he was idiot . the kids were right and it was right in front of him the whole time . he for once didn't think of his action , when she came over he helped her with placing the things down not before pulling her on to his lap and  cuddling her close , god her giggles made his day, a melody he could listen to on repeat he was sure of it .  " what has gotten into you harrington, not that i'm complaining  " her smile , that damned smile could make anyone's day brighter  . " something that took me way too long to do " he said proud his voice didn't squeak or waver  . " and what would that be " god he had the usually confident teasing yet kind and caring y/n nervous.  " taking that step   ,  a step we both wanted , to finally stop kidding myself and finally go after the girl i want so bad it physically hurts sometimes , making sure no one can take her away " he smiled leaning up and capturing her lips with his .  she wanted to punch herself the shit she  used to say about how ridiculous movie kissing was bullshit . she could literally eat her words with how wrong she was .  how his lips against hers felt like they were meant to be there . two puzzle pieces connect to reveal the whole picture. souls reconnecting after eternity searching for  each other , nerves coming to life , fire work the lot . 

Needing air they reluctantly pulled back , both shit eating grins on there faces .  " about time harrington i was beginning to lose hope " she sighed dramatically head falling against his chest. " hey you could have said something you know " he defended finger lifting her chin to make her eyes align with his . " maybe i was scared " she bit her lip which wasn't a lie  , she'd been the same telling the group they were seeing things .  " well i was was terrified , i mean imagine losing this beautiful , kind , sweetheart , kinda an asshole sarcastic woman and one of my best friends because i told her i love her so much it drive me insane" he bared it all everything he was feeling over the years . " wait love " she sat up looking at him fully searching his eyes  making sure it wasn't some stupid prank between him and the kids or eddie .  " love like full blown burn the world down for you love " he  repeated .  what words failed , actions didn't she crashed her lips against his  hungrily showing him how much she loved him , how he made her go on when she thought she couldn't , how he gave her the strength to fight when she felt weak . steve harrington held a place in her heart  since the moment she met him , those puppy brown eyes had her locked , hook , line and sinker .  she pulled the back of his neck in a bid to get closer , while her skin burned with a need  only he could satisfy .    a quick turn of positions and she was now straddling the man she dreamed about for so long .  steve kissed back harder like she was his only source of oxygen while his hands land on her hip pulling her closer .  like it was on instinct her hips rolled making the man  under let out the sexiest almost primal moan she had ever heard . it was surreal she had steve the hair harrington moaning beneath her .   " if we gonna do this baby girl then we are going to need that bed of yours " a husk almost whisper against her ear making her whimper. steve harrington made her  give out the neediest whimper  something she wasn't aware could happen.  " take me to bed steve " she moaned feeling his strain against his jeans . 

without be breaking the kiss , he lifted her effortlessly up off the chair , holding her steady as he kissed down her neck  the t-shirt he love seeing on  her was now in his way . she could feel her skin almost burn with desire pulling the shirt over her head showing  the pink lace bra hiding underneath . " i definitely died and now in heaven" he teased kissed down her chest as he hand pushed her bedroom door open and kicking it closed . laying her softly on the bed as she pulled her shorts off . " eager are we " he smirked seeing the lust blown eyes , kiss bitten lips and it was all for him .  " please steve fuck touch me , kiss me do something " she kneeled before him pulling him by his waist band .    "yeah i died and this is heaven " he growled pushing her on her back while giving her almost a bruising kiss .  licking , biting down her neck as he unclasped her bra sitting up to admire her , the dream he had were nothing in comparison to the real deal. " fuck you are so beautiful baby girl " his hand giving teasing pinches to her now hardened peaks .  " oh you like that huh baby" he grin bowing his head . at first it teasing kitten licks , before a hiss broken moan came from her lips feeling him sucking and  biting her nipples soft mouth making her core throb with a need . her panties drenched at the way he handled her in such as short space of time.  she felt a fire burn deeper when his kissing began to continue down her body .   even touch of his lips felt like her wildest dreams coming to life yet it still wasn't enough she needed more of him , all of him . " can i take these off"  he asked a false coyness lilt to his deep husky voice. " fuck yes please i need you " she whimpered . " oh baby girl daddy's gonna take care of you , be a good girl and sit back while i eat this little pussy of yours,  can you do that " fuck this was definitely a dream ." yes daddy i'll be good " .   she hissed feeling his finger sliding up and down painful slow yet not even where she wanted . " all this for me such a good girl ..mmm you taste fucking heavenly i knew you would my sweet beautiful girl " he moaned tongue swirling tasting her slick . never did he think he would have her  tasting so sweet on his tongue dancing on his taste buds it was safe to say he was already addicted. " mm fuck daddy " she cried feeling his tongue swirl around her puffy clit sending her head crashing against the pillow  the pulling his hair and her back arching at the sensation . steve harrington ate pussy like it was a five course meal and his last meal all in one . she felt her coil tighten and windup so tight she almost screamed when it snapped making his actions faster lapping up her orgasim . " fuck i'm doing that daily fucking hell baby you taste so good " he groaned wiping her juices from his face.  

" now i need to be in that pussy because i near damn came in my fucking boxers like a little virgin , can i fuck you my sweet girl " he smiled down seeing her blissed out face.  she couldn't speak all her mind consisted of was him and him needing to be inside her . " too cock drunk speak  that's ok daddy will take care of you " he growled teasing his cock through her folds coating him up ,underestimating his own control but slowly he began pushing in , feeling the softness of her walls  it was like she was made for him and him  alone .  she couldn't help the pleading and begging that flew out of her mouth nor if someone told her this would happen she'd laugh in their face yet here she was doing just that  .  " FUCK" she cried as he began to thrust hitting spots in her body she never knew where there ,  her nails  scraping down his back in a bid to pull him closer anyway she could but what surprised her most was when he pinned her hands above her head , fucking her into the mattress like it was his main goal in life  turning her on more that she even thought was possible . babbles and moans filling the room along with the filthiness spewing from the  mans mouth .  " daddy fuck just like that " she cried wanting to grab him but hell even the restricted movement made it better somehow. he let go of her hands gliding them down pinching her nipples as he passed them before he began circling her clit  . " we cum together baby i can feel it  " he growled as she clenched around . " now " his thrust sloppy then she felt his cum filling her up painting ever part of her cervix as she herself clenched down milking ever part of it .  " fuck that was...." she panted . " totally happening every chance we get .. i totally agree" he joked pulling out of her. " steve you know i love you too right .. so much it drives me insane " she leaned up lasily kissing him as he pulled her to his chest .  

bonus : 

" i'm not going in there but it's safe to say the plan worked and dustin is traumatise " robin nodded face in pure disgust. " who knew harrington was a kinky fuck " eddie smirked . " can we please just go " dustin whispered . " come on we can get the money of steve for therapy " robin led him toward eddies van . " HARRINGTON YOU ARE MY HERO " eddie yelled in . " munson come on before henderson barfs in your van " robin hissed. 

[echantedtoon]

Alastor x Fem Reader

(gift for @colourstreakgryffin Happy Valentine's Day!)

If someone had told him a couple months ago that he would fall in love with the MOST unlikely girl that had ever graced hell...He'd have told you to never speak such nonsense to him again, probably would have scoffed, told them they were insane, and dismissed it from memory bank forever. Him, a proud pillar of hell, with a girl like her?? HA! What nonsense...

Or was it?

Not to him right now it wasn't as she kissed him and held his hands and he found himself not fighting against it. What was wrong with him!?

It felt like a two part problem in his mind. On one hand it was as if he was betraying his loyalty to his duties and everything that it stood for, for falling for such a girl. While on the other hand it was a betrayal of his own emotions for denying his affection for her in the first place. He grew weaker by the day, losing sleep over his inner turmoil. It wasn't long before people started to notice, dark circles appearing under his eyes and his usual scowl deepening as his mood worsened. No one dared to actually ask him what was the matter, but he could feel their concerned stares and worried glances. Even so, he held out, pushing thoughts of her away as he tried to go on with his life. Just ignore her, he told himself. He would feel better once he forgot about her. But no matter what she wouldn't leave his mind or him alone. Oh WHY did he have to be plague his existence. He once tried yelling at her to just GO AWAY!! To leave him alone because she didn't need to be anywhere near him....It ended up with him breaking down in the middle of the hallway crying and all those sleepless nights catching up to him finally. His acts were slipping, he was acting like a baby, and it was ALL her fault. She wouldn't listen and go away like some stalker. After that he had passed out from his yelling fit and woken up in the lobby due to exhaustion.....And to her crying and holding his hand. Ironic wasn't it.

And he made a noble effort to ever forget about that incident, but it was all for naught.

He reached his tipping point about a month into his rejection to the monster. He was exhausted, eyes sore and bloodshot, and his work still wavering concerning all their superiors. Lost in his thoughts on the way to lunch, he heard a single word. His name. That made him stop in his tracks. His head snapping up in recognition, eyes widening. No! Not her! Not now! The last thing he wanted was the taller she demon to back him against the wall and talk her pretty little head off. He felt like he was suffocating. He barely slept for days. He couldn't take it- The voices were becoming so much his head was going to explode-

"Alastor? You don't look so good."

That was the last thing he heard before he passed out for a second time that month. She had carried him. CARRIED HIM!! HIM!! All the way back home filled with worry. Don't ask him why she didn't just take him to the nurse again or just leave him there. If the overlord was just found passed out against the wall it would've been less humiliating than a girl to carry him all the way to his bed where he remained when he woke up and numbly laid there as she went off chattering again. He didn't know what he was thinking when he suddenly exploded at her letting everything out. Maybe it was his frustration? The stress and strain he was feeling from her relentless presence? Maybe the days of little to no sleep? His mind zoned out as he mindlessly yelled at her but he certainly wasn't expecting it to end up with her kissing him and him being compliant to her affections. Leaning into her warmth and all around easing the stress he was always. Good grief what did he say? At one point she pulled away and he attempted to kiss her again which ended embarrassingly thanks to his lesser height which ended up with himself missing her lips and pecking her jawline which sent her beautiful face into giggles and the soft hands cupping his already crying and red face rubbed away at the stressful tears.

"You shouldn't beat yourself over like a little crush. I would've been happy to know either way.Oh. Please don't cry."

He wasn't sure why he felt so assured or comforted right now, but for now he leaned into those soft hands holding him up with the pretty angelic face of his relief.

[mystic-writings]

i love you, we’re okay | poe dameron

PAIRING — poe dameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY — when poe finally returns from an unexpectedly long mission, you have something to tell him. 

WARNINGS — pregnancy, fluff, mentions of sex, suggestive scenes (but not really), mentions of vomiting, real-word cursing

WORD COUNT — 3,375

NOTES — the pipeline that led me to writing this is actually insane btw! couldn’t explain it if i tried, but this is my first attempt at writing for poe since 2020, so i’m still rusty on the star wars slang/lingo!

masterlist | taglist

You’d never found more solace, more protection from the state of the world around you than you’d ever found in Poe’s arms. It was usually your favourite place to be — and one of the reasons why you hated when he went on missions so often. That, and the sole possibility that he might not make it back. 

It was why you cherished the days when he made it back to D’Qar, straight back to you. 

You’d been both eager and entirely too worried for his return this time around, a simple mission taking entirely too long to complete. When he’d first told you about it, he promised he’d be back in a week at the longest. That week turned into two, turned into three, and you were nearly worried half to death until you were awoken by your datapad, the sun barely cresting the horizon as it beeped incessantly, a transmission from Leia herself stating that Poe was in the debriefing room with her. 

She’d relieved you both from your duties for the day, supposedly just to spend time together after being apart for so long. You knew the intent behind her message, the subtle jab at the surprise you were hiding from your boyfriend, and you fully planned to follow through the moment you saw him. 

And then he was showing up at your door, hands pulling at fabric and lips meeting skin, and the rest of the world simply fell away, leaving only you and Poe at the centre of the universe, showing each other exactly how much you’d missed one another. 

The sun was surely up by now, as Poe rolled onto the bed next to you, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his lips stretched with that beautiful post-sex smile that always left you breathless. Shifting under the sheets, you reached out to pull him close, relishing the way he so easily fell into your body; his face settling in the crook of your neck, breaths fanning across your sweat-slick skin, an arm falling across your torso. 

You settled into the mattress, your hand reaching up to gently scratch at Poe’s scalp. He hummed contentedly, wriggling beside you in an attempt to get closer to you, as though your bodies weren’t already pressed together. 

“Poe?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, somewhere between a groan and something more inquisitive, muffled by your shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whispered as you stopped scratching his scalp, pressing a light kiss to his hair, doing very little to fight the way your sudden, oncoming tears wavered your voice. 

Poe lifted his head, worried eyes meeting your tear-filled ones. He propped himself up on his elbow, reaching up to brush stray hairs from your forehead, his fingers lingering as they drifted down your face. “Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt. I’m right here, alright?” 

Your heart swelled as Poe spoke, the comfort in his assuring, gentle tone bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. He always had a habit of doing that, of making sure you were okay. Making sure you knew he wasn’t planning on going anywhere you couldn’t reach him. You nodded, doing your best to blink away the tears, though all you managed to do was make them fall. 

Poe’s hand returned to your face almost immediately, the calloused pad of his thumb sweeping gently across your cheek, wiping away any trace of your unease. A quiet sigh escaped him as you leaned into his touch, his palm splaying across the side of your face, allowing you to soak up his warmth. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you choked out, reddened eyes opening to meet his worried ones. “I promise, Poe. You were just gone for so long, and I…” a sharp inhale, a beat of anxiety, your eyes locked with his as you forced the words out in one big breath. “I’m pregnant.” 

Poe remained silent as his eyes searched yours, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. For a moment, you worried that this wasn’t what Poe wanted; that he would leave, without a word, and abandon you entirely. And then, like the sun splitting the clouds after a rainstorm, Poe’s lips stretched into a smile bigger and brighter than you’ve ever seen. 

“Really?” He asked, breathless as he took you in, watching a matching smile spread across your own lips. 

You nodded, fresh tears coming to your eyes, glimmering and unshed. Happy tears. With another inhale, you glanced down at the space between you, soon to be filled by a swelling stomach and the life you created. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, y’know? And I’ve known for, like, two weeks,”

“Are you doing okay?” Poe asked, his hand drifting to your waist, fingers gently grazing against the skin of your stomach. “Any morning sickness? Or are you not that far yet? Do you know how many weeks yet? What about fatigue?”

He prattled the questions off so quickly that you could barely process them, a giggle escaping your lips and promptly cutting him off. Poe frowned, making you laugh even harder. “What’s so funny? Am I not allowed to be concerned here?”

“No, you’re perfectly allowed to be concerned, Poe,” you took a breath, calming yourself as much as you could. A wide, playful smile still split your lips as you spoke. “I just… where did you learn all of that?”

“Hey, I read,” Poe defended. 

“You read… pregnancy books?” You asked, fighting laughter once again. 

“Okay, not pregnancy books. But my mom… her friend was pregnant when I was younger, they used to talk about a lot of that stuff together and it just sort of… stuck, I guess,” Poe shrugged, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now, tell me everything.”

You huffed playfully as Poe rolled over, sitting up and adjusting the pillows behind him. Leaning against the wall, he pulled you into his lap, keeping one hand on your hip and the other loosely wrapped around your bare torso as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“They said I was about seven weeks when I found out,” you began, fingers running along the chain Poe kept around his neck, hosting his mother’s ring. “So… I’m almost nine weeks along now? Ish?” 

Poe hummed, his fingers brushing absently against your stomach. “No nausea, surprisingly. Except the one time, but I’ll get to that. I haven’t done a scan yet, though. Was waiting for you to get back.”

You glanced up, finding Poe’s eyes already on you, a gentle smile on his face. “I didn’t want you to miss anything.” 

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Thank you.” 

You smiled back in response, deciding to finally get to the good part. “As for how I found out…” 

“Y/n, you have to stop working so hard,” you hadn’t even heard Rose approach you from behind, your head practically buried in the underbelly of one of the older, disused A-Wings. 

Sighing, you took a step down from your ladder, squinting at your friend. “I’ll be fine, Rose. I’ve almost got this thing back to combat ready, anyway.”

“You need to eat. And shower. And rest.” Rose insisted as gently as she was able, crossing her arms as she stared you down. “How long have you been out here, anyway?”

You huffed, stepping from the ladder, moving closer to Rose in order to reach your toolbox, which she’d conveniently been standing beside. Her eyes followed you as you dropped your soldering wand, grabbing a rag to wipe your hands. 

“What’s it matter, Rose? I’m fine. I’ve gotta get this damn thing fixed before Poe gets back so he can dock his X-Wing here, and I’d rather get it done now, since—” you huffed, frustrated at your own body for betraying you and allowing your chest to constrict, for letting your eyes fill with tears as you throw down the rag, pulling at the zipper on your jumpsuit, pulling it down to the waist, revealing your sweat-soaked tank top and allowing your skin to breathe. “—since apparently no one knows when that’s gonna be.” 

Rose’s eyes softened, her hands falling back to their sides as she watched you panic, frantic fingers pulling at your suit, fumbling to tie the arms around your waist. “Y/n, come inside. Get something to drink, please. You’re gonna hurt yourself like this.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’ll be fine. Just need to keep— keep working.” 

You pressed your fingers to your eyes, practically swaying as a wave of nausea rolled over you, practically knocking you off your feet. You heard Rose call your name, worried and shaky as she watched cautiously. Trying to tamp it down, you took a deep breath, almost instantly regretting the action. Instead of the cool air you were hoping to breathe in, all you smelled was char from the soldering wand, the smell of metal and grease and sweat infiltrating your senses and bringing the bile in your stomach all the way up your throat. 

Your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes flying open to make brief contact with Rose before you darted to the other corner of the docking bay, emptying what little you’d been able to eat for breakfast into a waste bin. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but Rose’s heavy footfalls eventually faded, followed immediately by a soothing hand rubbing circles on your back. 

When you were finally done, heaving and out of breath, Rose helped you stand. 

“Are you going to listen to me now and get some rest?” Rose asked, more sympathetic than authoritative. 

Murmuring a confirmation that you were, indeed, going to take a break, you leaned into her small form, eyes fluttering closed to take a moment to properly breathe. The taste lingered in your mouth, acidic and bitter, making your stomach want to turn on you again. Your skin seemed to develop another layer of sweat, sticky and gross as it clung to you. 

Rose stuck close as you began walking on your own, stumbling as you headed to the docking bay’s entrance, your head spinning almost violently. You didn’t even get the chance to mutter your friend’s name before you felt your knees giving out, the world falling around you, fading into nothing before you even hit the ground. 

“You worked yourself half to death?” Poe asked, an edge to his voice, making your shoulders tense. “That’s how you found out?”

“I didn’t work myself to death,” you muttered, lifting your head to meet Poe’s eyes. “I just… worked on the A-Wing for a bit too long, that’s all. They fixed me up nice and new in the medbay, anyway.” 

“And how long is ‘a bit too long’, exactly?”

“Uh…” you hummed, trying to stall for time before you eventually muttered, “Eleven and a half hours,” 

“Maker—!” Poe groaned, lightly hitting his forehead with yours, his eyes squeezed shut. He took a breath, grounding himself as he squeezed your hip before pulling back and looking at you. “You know you can’t work for that long even when you’re not pregnant, right? That’s way too dangerous!”

“I needed something to keep me busy!” You blurted, winding an arm around Poe’s neck, adjusting yourself. “I couldn’t— you not being here, not getting any communication from you, it terrified me, Poe. Not knowing if or when you were coming home, I couldn’t think about it. So I worked on the A-Wing.” 

Poe sighed, squeezing your hip one more time. “I’m sorry. For not… for not telling you it was gonna take longer. We weren’t allowed any communication. Too close to the First Order, they would’ve tracked it right to you.” 

“It’s okay, Poe.” You whispered, tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re here. You’re alive. That’s enough.”

You woke with a sharp breath, a pounding in your head, and harsh light bleeding through your eyelids. Pressing the heel of your palm to your temple, something snagged on the back of your hand. Pulling back, you forced your eyes open despite the bright, sterile lighting, finding an IV taped expertly to your skin. 

Glancing around, you groaned when you realised you were in the medbay. Heaving a sigh, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, which was much harder to do when your bed was already at an angle. 

The trills and beeps of a droid caught your attention, the bed rising to meet your back as a med-droid beeped happily at your conscious presence. “Good evening, Miss Y/n! You’re finally awake!”  

“What happened to me, exactly?” You rasped, coughing slightly at the dryness of your throat. Almost immediately, the droid handed you some water, which you took gratefully even if you were already getting fluids from the IV. 

“You fainted, Miss Y/n!” The droid was all too chipper about your accident, forcing you to bite back a groan. “My scans indicate that you are dehydrated and lacking proper nutrition, Miss Y/n. The fluids are administering proper hydration and vitamins.”

You nodded gently, still aware of the present, but lessening, throbbing in your head. “Anything else? Anything General Organa can yell at me for later?”

“My scans do not indicate any  life-threatening conditions, Miss Y/n.” The droid informed you, and you felt your chest get a little bit lighter. “But I did detect a secondary life form, Miss Y/n. Congratulations! Would you like to see?”

The med-droid’s words caught you off guard, stealing the breath from your lungs as you stared at it, entirely hung up on three words, spoken in a metallic, chittering voice. Secondary life form. When you finally found your voice, you squeaked out, “Secondary life form?”

“Yes, Miss Y/n. It appears you’re pregnant! According to my scans, you’re approximately seven weeks!” The droid chittered, trilling and beeping away after the fact. “Shall I inform General Organa?”

“No!” You nearly shouted, fear shooting through your nerves. “No, thank you. Just… call her here, please?”

The droid rolled away, chittering an enthusiastic ‘yes, Miss Y/n!’, and you gave yourself the moment alone to catch your breath, properly. The air was tinged with the scent of medical grade disinfectant, burning your nostrils as you breathed it in. You closed your eyes, following what felt like a thousand different trains of thought, all of them landing on one of two things: Poe, and what this would do to your future with the resistance. 

You hadn’t talked about it much with Poe, but you knew he’d always wanted a family. Of course, all of the times either of you had brought it up — about three times in total between both of you — the dreams he’d had about building a family always came after the war. When the world was safe and he was free to live whatever life he wanted, wherever he wanted it. Of course, knowing Poe, that life would take place on Yavin-4, where his father could see his son happy and his grandchildren thriving. 

What would he have to say about this? About you, pregnant on a rebel base that could be attacked at a moment’s notice, unable to properly defend yourself? What would you do with yourself, unable to fight, taking care of the most vulnerable being in the galaxy? 

You didn’t bother thinking about it further, knowing that it would only push you into a spiral. Thankfully, the medbay doors hissed open, revealing a relieved General Organa, pushing through and rushing to your bed. 

“Are you okay?” Her maternal instinct seemed to be strong when it came to you and Poe, though she’d never explained why. “Rose told me you were in the medbay, then I got the transmission from the med-droid that you were awake. What happened?”

Your cheeks flushed as you ducked your head, embarrassed as you recounted the events to your general. “I overworked myself, General. But I, uh, the droid told me something else. I thought you would want to know—” 

“Is there something wrong?” Her voice was calm, steady, and warm. Your chest swelled, most of your anxieties slipping away. 

“Not quite, General, I— the droid said I’m pregnant.” Your voice faltered for a moment as your eyes met hers, your confidence flickering ever so slightly when she didn’t give a response. “General?”

“Effective immediately, you’re no longer allowed on active duty,” General Organa said, her voice still warm. A slight smile crossed her lips, despite the professionalism she took on. “I want you on light duty from here on out, Y/n. Until you’re 14 weeks, you may work on repairs, but after that, you’ll be supervising, nothing more. The engineers have space for you to assist with their material designs, and training is lacking as of late.” 

Neither of you spoke for a moment as you processed her instructions, deflating slightly at the idea of not quite being able to do what you enjoyed for a while, but you were glad that you could still work nonetheless. 

Another beat of silence, General Organa’s widening smile, then, “Congratulations. I can’t imagine how happy you must be.” 

You chuckled, watching the General place her hand gently atop your own. “It’s… more nerve wracking than anything, actually. I don’t think I’ll have the space to be happy about it until I tell Poe.” 

“If there’s anything I can guarantee, it’s that this is a good thing.” She assured, squeezing your fingers. “You’ll make great parents, both of you.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered in a shuddering breath, turning your hand over and taking the General’s hand in yours. “That means more than you know.” 

Nodding gently, General Organa squeezed your hand once more before departing to draft the papers for your altered work restrictions and removal from active duty, leaving you in a silent room to process the news by yourself. 

“Leia let me stay on long enough to finish the A-Wing,” you murmured, Poe’s face long since nestled in the crook of your neck, your lips ghosting against his neck. “Got it done, with Rose supervising. Made me take a break every hour. Slowed me down, but I finished it. A few days ago, actually.”

“I don’t give a damn about the A-Wing,” Poe muttered, forcing a quiet laugh from you. “I just care that you’re okay. Both of you.”

Your heart swelled, Poe’s voice vibrating your skin, your love for him threatening to swallow you whole. “You’re… happy about this? Really?”

“Are you kidding?” Poe lifted his head, kissing your cheek, pulling back to meet your eyes with a smile. “I couldn’t be happier. We’re… I mean, shit, we’re having a kid!”

“We are,” you smiled, warm and gentle as you watched Poe’s widen. “I know it’s not like you talked about, but… we’re having a baby,” 

“I don’t care about anything I said before,” Poe scoffed. “I care about now. About you and about our baby. We’re gonna be just fine, I promise. Even if that means I have to end the war myself.” 

“I’d much rather you didn’t,” you said. “I think my child deserves to meet their dad.” 

“Dad…” Poe whispered, eyes trailing to your stomach. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

Poe looked up, as though your words finally made him realise what was going to happen to him. You watched his eyes fill with tears, unshed as he took his hand away from your waist, splaying it across your cheek and pulling you into his lips. 

Even if you must’ve kissed Poe hundreds of times before, he still managed to take the breath from your lungs every time his lips slotted onto yours. His lips were like heaven, like home to you. Like comfort, safety, and every ounce of love in his body flowed into yours, no matter the reason why he was kissing you. Whether it was hello, or goodbye, or simply because Poe wanted to kiss you, he always made sure you could feel how much he loved you. And you did the same. 

His lips seemed to say it all without speaking a single word. I love you, we’re okay. 

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

poe dameron taglist: open!

[marlsswrites]

Departure

Prompt from @wolfstar451 <3

Words: 696

Regulus wasn’t too fond of boats, the bumps, the waves, the splashes and the way they teetered back and forth as the passengers attempted not to fall over. So all in all, he wasn’t entirely sure about going on this trip, but it was a lovely boat, and Narcissa had been kind enough to invite him and some other friends and cousins - and of course Sirius.

His brother had dragged along a friend of his, James apparently, Regulus had never met him - nor did he plan to.

He’d dragged Pandora with him, for you know, moral support. Plus the girl was practically a mermaid, and also one of his only friends that he trusted not to push him overboard.

The boats departure had been as smooth as can be, he stayed glued to Pandoras side as he peered over the edge of the boat. The view was pretty, it was a small boat so it wasn’t too far from the waters edge as well. If he stood close enough he could feel the spray of the salty sea water as the boat moved along the waves.

Seconds later, Pandora was gone, mingling around with Andromeda and Ted with a glass of champagne hung lazily in her hands. Regulus made a mental note to find where she got that from. Now there was a new presence by his side, a man.

He was tall and tan with the most blinding smile known to man, he looked like he’d been plucked from the heavens by Aphrodite herself and sent down just to crumble Regulus to his knees.

And oh he was very shirtless, and very toned.

“Hi?” He questioned, his voice wavering at the end and his eyes staying glued to a spot behind the man’s head - trying to avoid them flicking down and down and onto that sharp v-line under his baggy maroon swim shorts.

“Hi.” The man only smiled in return.

Regulus raised an eyebrow, pushing him to continue and actually give him an explanation as to why he was just stood there. “I’m James.”

James…. “Oh.”

“Oh?” He snorted. “What’s that supposed to mean love?”

He could feel his cheeks blossoming a pink colour, shaking his black curls around to hide his face and looking back out at the soft, blue waves.

Then it dawned on him, James doesn’t know who he is. He’s not aware that Regulus is Sirius’ little brother, that he’s insanely forbidden, all he sees him as is the pretty boy on the boat.

Regulus wants to see how long he can keep it like that.

“Nothing.” He looked back up with a short smile.

“You’re not going to tell me your name?”

The younger of the two hummed, playing with the sliver chain around his neck before shaking his head with a faux innocent batter of his eyelashes. “You’ll have to earn it.”

“I can think of plenty of ways I can earn it?”

“Oh yeah?” He tilted his chin up, looking up at the man as he hooked his pink lower lip through his teeth.

The two seemed to inch closer and closer, the boat that once made Regulus sea sick and anxious was suddenly barely moving now. His focus sorely on the smug grin and seeking hazel eyes gazing down at him like there wasn’t a boat full of slightly tipsy twenty year olds around them.

Their sudden trance in each other broke when they both heard a painfully familiar yell coming towards them.

“James!” Sirius shouted as he skidded up next to them, clearly not noticing the pure tension blossoming between his best friend and younger brother. “I see you’ve met my brother.” He looked between the two.

The brunettes face instantly dropped into one of shock, yet he didn’t move away, he only looked towards Regulus and raised an eyebrow.

A laugh left Regulus’ mouth as he met the older man’s eye for a moment before looking at Sirius, smug look still on his face. “What?” The older Black asked.

“Nothing.” The tan and the pale spoke in sync.

But god later that night James ended up earning a whole lot more than his name.

[angelofsmalldeaath]

work song — a.h.b.

a/n: full disclosure, i've posted this before on tumblr for something else. but i love this piece very much and i think it fits for him and this song so well 🤍 (it's gone under quite a few edits too, though)

cw: mentions of death but of well that's a given

the artist flicks through the feature. 

her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face—smiling and excited—next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche. 

the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns, but at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his red-brown curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him. 

and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory. 

when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles. 

“you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?” his voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now) 

“good,” he nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, “you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous.”

“mmm, because you were the centrepiece?” fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes—the bustling art gallery, him in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride. 

she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. “he's my muse,” she says every time, “this collection is dedicated to him.” 

“someone's going to connect the dots,” he walks around her, settling himself next to her on the settee. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle—her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. “if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection.” 

“sweet boy, we have been each other's muse for years now and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides,” she snorts, “i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won’t be the first time an artist's gone insane.”

he laughs a hearty laugh. “maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true.”

when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away as he smothers her in kisses. 

“seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes.” suddenly he sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone. 

“love it when you write about me too,” she teases, “love being told i give you a toothache just from kissing you.”

“oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me.”

“the memory of me taking care of you when you were burning up a fever? the memory of you demanding more kisses?”

he giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. “oh, oh, is it the memory of you passing the flu to me?” 

“we took care of each other though!” he traps both her hands in his so she won’t be able to poke him more. a second passes, and he can’t resist kissing the knuckles. “and so you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think.”

he pauses for a little then tuts. “actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic.”

“ruin the magic?” 

“of being your muse and having you as mine. a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times—”

“tune of our times...”

“yeah, quit laughing at me!” he flicks her nose, kissing it right after. “so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections.”

secretly, she loves the idea—that their love might transcend time and space, heaven and hell through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren’t just yet. 

“of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us.”

“that's morbid!” she laughs sharply, “what will the epitaph say?”

he hums for a bit, thinking. his eyes flutter shut for a second or two, almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands. 

“here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life.”

[dark-frosted-heart]

Crown’s S Class Mission - Roger Barel (Part 2)

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Kate: Aaah. No…I can’t anymore, Instructor…Roger.

Roger: Keep going…your body can still handle it right?

Kate: Ah… No, not anymore…

Roger: When you think you can’t take it anymore, that’s when it actually starts. Same thing in bed. Come on, 10 more sit ups.

Kate: Why are you talking about doing things in bed? You’re absolutely the worst!

Instructor Oliver: Oh, is something the matter?

Roger: No, Miss Kate wants me to be stricter.

(......Excuse me?)

Roger: 10 more sit ups. Muscle, muscle!

Kate: Muscle…muscle…Ugh…

(It’s no use, if I do a bad job, I’ll look suspicious)

Roger put his lips to my ear as I desperately tried to do sit ups…

Roger: Maybe the ‘S’ in S class mission stands for ‘sadist’?

Kate: …Eh?

Roger: Hey, you stopped. Come on, muscle, muscle!

(D-damn it!)

--

Kate: Haaa…haaa… So…did you find anything?

Roger: Nah, haven’t “heard” anything suspicious yet. I’ll keep an ear out ‘til I get a lead.

Instructor Oliver: Roger, a moment!

Roger: Yeah, I’m coming over.

Roger: Keep digging. Stay on guard, Kate.

With a nod, Roger went to where Instructor Oliver called him.

(I’m thirsty. I’ll get  a glass of water)

Kate:Huh, where’s the drinking fountain…?

Blonde lady: Excuse me, I can show you where it is.

I turned toward the voice and saw a dignified lady smiling at me.

After being shown where the fountain was, the rigorous training continued— 

--

I snuck outside.

(No one will come out here, right? I’ll just take a short break and then head back in)

Maybe it was because I’m not used to doing hard exercises, but my knees were about to give out.

???: Who’s this student skipping class?

Kate: Eek! I’m sorry! I won’t slack off anymore!

Roger: Haha. Dummy, it’s me.

Kate: Roger… Geez, don’t scare me like that!

Roger: Sorry, sorry. I’ll give you something nice as an apology, so open your mouth. Say ‘aah’.

Kate: Huh, mmm. It’s sweet… Is it chocolate?

Roger: You look like a sad puppy.

(You were strict with me, and now you’re spoiling me…)

Perhaps Roger often tames using a carrot and stick.

That’s really, really annoying…

Kate: Oh yeah, I made a friend just then. Her name’s Emilia Winslow. She told me that her dream’s to go into politics.

Roger: That’s an insane dream when you know women don’t have the right to vote.

Kate: Yeah…She mentioned that. She wanted to get out of her current situation, but didn’t know how. So she came to the club in desperation. She thought that if she got stronger, she’d be able to change her absurd situation.

Roger: The women who gathered here all want to get stronger and fight.

As his amber eyes looked up to the sky, a question I wanted to ask suddenly popped in my mind.

Kate: Roger, have you ever wanted to get stronger?

Roger: I have. It’s not like I’ve been like this since I was born. When I was a kid, I had my first friend. He was cursed. But because I was weak, I betrayed him in the worst way. I couldn’t protect him.

(This is the first time I’ve heard something about Roger’s past…)

It felt like his eyes, still focused on the sky, wavered for a moment.

Roger: Maybe I’ve always been fighting something?

Seeing that smile on his face, as if he were trying to laugh away the pain, reminded me of what Roger told me that time I fired a gun at someone for the first time.

(At the time, I hated myself for being weak…What Roger said…)

“People who want to get stronger and are able to continue on are really the strong ones.”

When I first met Roger, I thought he was “just a strong guy”.

However, now I can clearly see that he’s someone that “tries to be strong”.

—Suddenly, Roger’s eyes became sharp.

Roger: …

Kate: …Roger?

Roger: Oy…who’s there? I can hear your heartbeat.

Instructor Oliver: …

(What do we do…? If he finds out that Roger and I know each other…)

Instructor Oliver: I’m sorry for eavesdropping… Will you please hear me out?

Somehow Oliver had a feeling that we were different from those that visited the Beauty Muscle Club. 

So he followed us—to ask for help.

Instructor Oliver: In the beginning, I was just an instructor working at the club. But then I uncovered something unthinkable about this place… The owner of the club and master of the estate belongs to the House of Lords. He has an extremely distorted view on women’s empowerment.

Roger: Does this have anything to do with the fact that women who visit here end up ill?

Instructor Oliver: How did you…Just who are you people?

Roger: That doesn’t matter now. Are the women here getting drugged?

Instructor Oliver: Illegal drugs disguised as muscle-enhancement drugs.

Kate: Why…that’s so ridiculous.

Roger: It’s to stop brilliant and strong women from entering the workforce, isn’t it? So stupid. Even though they were tricked into it, they took the enhancement drug. And now the women are afraid to speak out in fear of being accused of taking illegal substances. And so the truth doesn’t come out.

Kate: …Such a cowardly way of operating.

Instructor Oliver: I don’t want to do this. But they threatened to kill me if I ran away.

He looked like a little kid with how he weakly hung his head, face pale.

(We can’t overlook this evil)

Kate: …Roger, I have a request. I—

Roger: Don’t do anything reckless that’ll put yourself in danger, okay?

Kate: Okay!

—Then, Oliver and I went to where the illegal drugs were being sold.

--

The person who welcomed us was a man from the House of Lords, the wonder of the club and estate.

After Oliver introduced me, the man handed me a small bag of medicine with a friendly look on his face. 

(...I got the evidence. All I need to do now is leave)

(But…)

Master of the estate: This will make you stronger and more beautiful. Let us build a better society.

The way he so easily lied filled me with rage.

Kate: …These are illegal drugs.

Instructor Oliver: ?!

As if he caught on, the master of the estate’s eyes turned terribly cold.

And he smiled cooly.

Master of the estate: Britain thriving, but with that, comes women getting louder… Give them the right to vote, give them places to work. Women are inferior creatures to men who are just clever enough to serve.

Kate: So, why would you do such a despicable and foolish thing?

Master of the estate: If I don’t pluck the useless weeds, then who will?

Kate: There are a lot of women trying to get stronger, you know?

Master of the estate: And for what reason, when it’s all in vain? 

(Oh my god…)

I slapped the man before me as hard as I could.

Master of the estate: …You’re a woman! I can have you killed for this you know!

Kate: …

Before I could get the gun from my garter belt, a gunshot rang out and a bullet grazed the man’s cheek.

The window behind the man broke and Roger, with his hunting rifle, bursts into the room.

Roger: Hold up. Not gonna let you kill my cute student. Now then, it’s time for Instructor Roger’s fun and exciting punishment.

*House of Lords is the upper chamber of UK Parliament.

[abiiors]

Veee could you write something with matty where reader is also an artist (a way less known one) and its just pure fluff with both of them being inspired by one another?

Feel free to ignore ofc!!🫶🫶🫶

muse - matty x reader

a/n: this took a very different direction than originally planned and got slightly existential sorry about that 💀💀 but i hope you like it regardless <33

divider by @/cafekitsune

cw: mentions of smut, talks of death, general fluff and sappiness.

the artist flicks through the feature.

her name is printed in big letters on the cover of the monthly issue, her face--smiling and excited--next to the centrepiece of her latest art collection: cupid and psyche. the painting is stunning, a riot of bold colours and patterns but the at the centre is a man, his face hidden, his jet black curls tousled. his body is relaxed, she thinks there's an air of carefreeness about him.

and she'd know that for sure, after all that day is etched into her memory.

when she feels a familiar pair of arms wrap around her, she smiles.

"you're rather proud of the feature, aren't you?" matty's voice holds a little teasing note. she's stared at the feature for close to thirty minutes now, discreetly pinching herself in the same spot on her arm. (it sports a tiny, barely-there bruise now)

"good," matty nuzzles his face into her neck, softly kissing the skin, "you should be. the exhibit was fucking gorgeous."

"mmm, because you were the centrepiece?" fondly, she teases back, but the memory flashes in front of her eyes--the bustling art gallery, matty in a corner, wearing a plain hoodie and jeans and a cap hiding half of his face, absolutely brimming with pride.

she remembers the journalists asking about the man in all the paintings, the one whose face no one can see. "he's my muse," she says every time, "this collection is dedicated to him."

"someone's going to connect the dots," matty walks around her, settling himself next to her on the sofa. instantly, they rearrange themselves into a tangle--her legs on his lap, his arm around her, her head on his shoulders, his head on hers. "if they looked carefully, they'll make the connection."

"matty, we have been each other's muse for years and no one's found out. i don't think they're going to start now. besides," she snorts, "i think the art world thinks i've made you up in my mind. won't be the first time an artist's gone insane."

matty laughs. "maybe you have. you always say i'm too good to be true."

when she can't think of a retort, she sticks her tongue out, shrieking away when he smothers her in kisses.

"seriously though, it's fun writing about you. singing about you. and i love seeing myself through your eyes." suddenly matty sounds all sober and serious. she thinks his voice even wavers slightly at the end. he blinks quickly though, and just like that the brightness in his eyes is gone.

"love it when you write about me too," she teases, "love being called a gemini and a sexy girl, such poetry."

"oi! i put my heart into that! it's a precious memory for me."

"the memory of us fucking in the new bath for the first time?"

matty giggles like a teenager, hiding his face in her hair. it's fun to rile him up like this, so she continues, poking him in the ribs. "or waking up the next day with a head cold because we stayed in the cold water for so long hmm?"

"you took care of me though, and so i think you deserve to have a song written about you. or a whole album works too i think." then matty tuts. "actually, no. don't wanna tell anyone it's about you, that'll ruin the magic."

"ruin the magic?"

"of being your muse and having you as mine. i think a hundred years from now, when people would see your art as the artwork of this generation, and my music as the tune of our times--"

"tune of our times..."

"yeah, quit laughing at me!" matty flicks her nose, quickly kissing it after. "so when my music becomes the tune of our times, i think people will see it then. they will make the connections."

secretly, she loves the idea--that their love might transcend time and space through their art. that decades from now their names might be whispered together, even though they aren't just yet.

"of course, we'll be buried together by then. same grave by the way, very romeo and juliet of us."

"that's morbid!" she laughs sharply, "what will the epitaph say?"

matty hums for a bit, thinking, his eyes flutter shut for a second or two almost like he needs to focus on the half formed thought until it's a complete sentence. then he excitedly clears his throat and gently holds her face between his hands.

"here lie the artist and the muse; inspiring each other in death as they did in life."

[gilmore-angel]

you belong with me || steve harrington x reader

swiftmas ♱ second fic for my swiftmas!!! important note is that I'm not following the shows canon, so that's why the timeliness is off. I hope you enjoy this fic. im not the biggest fan of how it turned out, but i still am okay with it lol! if you'd like to see the December 1st fic you can click the first link below!! also SO SORRY this is late!!

summary ♱ you love Steve, but he must be stupid if he doesn't realize you two are meant to be together.

warnings/contains ♱ bit of jealousy, friends to lovers, breakup.

swiftmas ♱ navigation ♱ follow my library account @baysfics !!

it was a tuesday night, you sat in your room on your bed, listening to AC/DC. your pajamas were loose and comfortable as you wrote in your diary.

you suddenly hear a tap, tap, tap coming from your window. you furrow your brows, standing up to investigate. any vit of panic settles down when you see it's just your best friend, steve. but as soo. as panic left you worry took its place. why did steve come here so late while it was snowing?!

he gives a bashful smile as he continues to knock on your cold window. he was thankfully wearing a big jacket, covered with melting snow. you quickly rush over and open the window. he ungracfully climbs through and lands on your floor, getting everything around him wet in the process.

you scoff, shaking your head. "are you insane? like actually? what are you doing here so late?" you grab a random dirty tee you had laying on your floor to wipe some of the water now on your windowsill and floor.

he closes the window and takes off his wet coat. he sighs, tossing it on the ground and flopping onto your bed. "just felt like it."

you sigh, shaking your head. you toss the shirt next to his jacket and sit next to him. you can't help but feel your cheeks warm at his appearance. he's all messy hair, flushed cheeks and pretty smiles. you hate your heart for fluttering.

"I thought you were spending the night with nancy?" you liked nancy, you really did. but she didn't come off as the right girl for steve. he needed someone who fully understood him. his personality, his story, his everything. someone like you.

his smile wavers at the mention of his girlfriend. he shrugs, letting out a forced chuckle. "yea well, I pissed her off again so that didn't happen."

you furrow your brows. it seems like she's always upset with him. "what did you do now?"

he adverts his eyes down, shrugging. "you tell me... but it's fine. we'll move past it, we always do."

"a relationship shouldn't feel like a constant battle, you know." you hate seeing how stressed steve had become. their relationship clearly wasn't working.

"yea, whatever. can i sleep here tonight?" he huffs out a bit of air, his voice low. he looks back at you, effortlessly giving the best puppy dog eyes.

you nod, tossing your diary on your bedside table and pulling back the covers. he wordlessly climbs in, laying his head comfortably against your pillow. you lay down next to him, keeping a good distance still. you turn off your lamp, the room devoid of any light except from the moon.

steve closes his eyes, squirming around until he was comfortable. you turn your head to stare at him. his pouty lips, his long eye lashes, his perfect nose. you can hear his soft breath and feel his warmth. you can't help thinking this is how ought to be. always.

——

you and steve arrive at school together, but he soon gets swept away by nancy, who had apparently needed only one night to once again forgive him. she looked pretty and put together as always. her white button up, her red short skirt, her white stocking and heeled mary janes. seeing her made you notice your lackluster outfit. a tee shirt, jeans and sneakers.

you barely saw steve until it was time to leave, since he was your ride. you got to his car before him, so you leaned against it waiting for him. finally you saw him walking up to the car, a almost confused expression on his face. he doesn't look at you as he gets in the car and turns it on. you get into the passenger seat. you place your hand on his shoulder.

"hey, are you feeling okay?" you furrow your brows. he stares at the wheel, nodding absent-mindedly.

"me and nancy broke up." your eyes widened, looking down.

"shit, I'm sorry... are you okay?" he nods again, turning to look at you. you were surprised at the lack of sadness in his eyes, only seeing realization.

"she never liked my jokes, or my music, or my anything... but you do." you notice him getting closer. your heart rate picks up, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"steve..." he finally makes the big move, pressing his soft lips against yours. you gasp softly but respond by kissing him back, gently cupping his cheeks.

you didn't know what this would mean for your relationship long term, but you hoped he finally understands he belongs with you.

[mitsuyaya]

[ 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 ] megumi fushiguro x gn! reader

♡ contains: 1k+ words. fluff, confessions, falling in love, kinda friends to lovers, lowercase intended

♡ summary: There are stages when one falls in love – in which, Megumi had to take those very stages just to have you.

♡ end note: for @loving-august <3 was made last year for my valentine event. listen to me & you together song by the 1975 :D

jjk masterlist

falling in love is a process. falling in love has a process.

falling in love doesn't begin at first glance nor the start of one's dating stage. falling in love is different, much complicated than what they make it out to be.

because for megumi, it took a long time, it took a lot of stages, of flights before he had come to realize that he has fallen in love with you.

Bits by bits, pieces by pieces, steps by steps – his heart gradually came to like you, to love you. It welcomes him at the starting line, an angel with their arms spread wide open, smile reaching their ears, gazing at him in utmost delight.

He didn't like you the second his eyes fell into yours, like how they describe love at first sight—no, Megumi felt nothing when he saw you.

His heart didn't hammer in his chest, his surroundings seemed to be moving as it is, there's no chorus of angels in his ears — he felt nothing, almost unbothered by your presence.

But as fate meddled with him; creating coincidental situations, similar interests that he couldn't resist but listening to you all day – he found himself turning his back on his first judgment.

And so it begins, the stages began piling.

It baffles him at first, the sudden appearance of your image in his mind, the disturbance of your silvery voice keeping him awake at the dead of night – it felt strange, that for some reason everywhere he goes he sees you, everywhere he look he sees you smiling, anywhere he rests he'll feel your skin on his, it felt weird and unbecoming for a friend.

But when he reaches the first flight of stair, the first stage – realization strucks him, it wasn't strange at all, he wasn't insane for hearing your voice out of nowhere, it wasn't just a friendly gesture when his blood boil when he finds you laughing with some random guy, it wasn't adrenaline that made his chest thump erratically when his face is inches close to yours – it hits him quite hard, fuck, he likes you, more than he actually think.

Megumi likes you, like a lot.

Thinking of you in the middle of a mission, while he's out with his friends, while his sister tells him a story about her day with his eyes glazed over – became natural to him, thinking about you became his second nature.

Wondering what you'll look like when he bought you that clothes you always look at, what you'll feel like when he wraps you in his embrace, what you'll be like when he introduce you to his sister, his dogs – his mind is preoccupied with thoughts of you, as if you're the owner of his mind.

You had him wrapped around your finger, pulling him with a leash with your every movement. It sounds absurd when he thinks about it, but he won't have it any other way. It's better thinking about the little things you do rather than thinking about what kind of mission he will be put into.

Climbing the next step wasn't difficult, it wasn't challenging when everything you do screams perfection.

Even if you blink, you breathe, you smile, opened your mouth – everything makes his composure waver, makes him half the man they thought he is; he loses his mind, he loses his confidence, the words vanished on his tongue when he looks at you – everything you do just simply makes him like you, every miniscule action you do is just enough for him to idolize you.

He idolizes you, he idolizes you so much that it shows.

“You like them so much it makes you look stupid.” Nobara said it so loud that he fears you'll hear it, but he's thankful that you're drunk out of your mind that you didn't think any of it.

“Can you just date already? It's giving me a headache seeing you two act all lovey dovey with each other.”

“Shut your mouth Nobara, it isn't the right time yet.”

“Fushiguro, dude, you're my friend and all but seriously why can't you just tell her how you feel. It's obvious how much you like them and we know they like you too so just date already!” Itadori and Nobara looked at their friend, still staring at you with that lovestruck look in his eyes, he's so smitten by you.

It's constant – his friends begging him to make a move, to confess, to tell you just exactly how he feels. It's easy, it's nothing to worry about and yet he couldn't do it.

How could he?

If the first few flights of stages were that easy, the last one isn't. Crossing the final obstacle isn't always simple, it's not rocket science, it's not child's play – it's difficult.

It requires a lot of risk and Megumi couldn't do it. He just couldn't.

So instead of reaching the final stage, he stood still. Watch the supposed outcome flash before him but never taking the leap, he couldn't risk it – he couldn't lose you.

He'll rather watch from afar and be shrouded with guilt than seeing you take further steps away from him, it's a small price to pay, he thinks.

“Come on, change your clothes and then you could sleep.”

Megumi circles your waist while holding your pajamas on the other. On the inside he's very much thankful that you're drunk, that you couldn't see how the tip of his ears are fiery red, blushing from your proximity, or a lack thereof.

“Nooooo, you're not my dad, why would I listen to yoooou?” you're cute even in your drunken state but seriously, he couldn't take any of this anymore. He's about to lose his fucking restraint if he stays longer.

“Please just change your clothes, you're too heavy.”

“Am not heavy.”

“You are if you don't listen to me and change into your pajamas.”

You groaned, something that made him smile even wider. Really, you're just too adorable.

“Will you stay the night if I do?”

He can't, he doesn't want to. He might not be as drunk as you are but he knows that if he stays until morning he'll unconsciously slip those not so little secrets of his.

Megumi knows that when he stays the night and sees you asleep and finds your vulnerable state – he would lose it.

“Okay fine, just please do it.” But as always, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you down.

With his fingers gripping the sheets, the other playing with the roots of your hair, his eyes are filled with mirth and adoration as he stares at your peaceful slumber.

It felt taboo to be looking at you this close, as if he's staring at the most impossible and forbidden painting that the Gods made. He fears that if his fingertips touch your skin he'll burn, it'll scar his hand – but even if it happens, he won't regret anything.

Staring at you doesn't feel like the way it was before, somehow it appears to be lacking. It feels lacking; the need to close the gap, the urge to confess, the desire to make you his partner — his confidence is what's lacking.

Megumi closed his eyes, still inches apart from you, still encompassed with the feeling of regret and discontentment.

I like you y/n… a lot.

Is what he wanted to say, is what he wanted to tell you ever since realization came crashing down on him, ever since it dawned on him and took him whole.

But he could never say it, he could never choke out the words when you're awake, so he'll settle for this, he'll settle for one of those stupid silent confessions – for now that is, or until he finds the courage to do so.

Perhaps in his dreams he could, or in the future, he'll be able to tell it to you directly, or if he could finally overcome the last stage, maybe then he could finally hold you closer than before.

“I've been in love with you for ages, Megumi.”

Or quite possibly, if he heard you at that very moment he'll finally have the guts to say those words out loud.

[trigunsbbygirl]

More Reverse Isekai Hcs with the Twins

another one with more focus on Vash, but Nai is there too. V relationship with reader so absolutely nothing going on with the twins.

also mention a not sfw song at the very end

•Vash loves window shopping. there's so many interesting things on Earth! Vash drags you around to each store and always ooo's and ahh's at everything. obsessed with stickers and animal shaped things (especially when it comes to cooking.)

•he bought animal cookie cutters and immediately tried them out and was both slightly disappointed and dying of laughter when the cookies came out way rounder than when they went in. Vash frosts them very seriously either way, holding in laughter at how they look. he can't hold it any longer when you catch his attention, holding up what was meant to be a bear, decorated with nothing but a small 'c:' on its face. you're wavering straight face and almost serious voice saying "he chonky" has him losing it.

•every once in a while when Vash is putting something in the oven, he'll quote that copypasta "Why do they call it oven when you of in the cold food of out hot eat the food?" Nai wants to smack him everytime he says it.

•speaking of, Vash quite likes internet language. he's not excessive with using them, but sometimes Vash'll be like 'look at the doggo/pupper!' he also starts saying lol and pog. he doesn't say them in public much though. he's still trying to learn about the difference in online culture and offline culture.

•unlike Nai, Vash finds merchandise fascinating. he loves looking at plushies, figurines and charms, he thinks it's all so cool! Vash buys you all matching phone charms. it makes him so happy whenever he spots it dangling from yours and Nai's phones.

•but speaking of, Vash finds out about the figurines of himself and if he can, he's absolutely buying them. he's looking at them and is all like damn I look so cool! and rubs it in Nai's face that he has not only more, but cooler figurines.

•Vash recreates the poses of them too, aiming his finger gun at you, before yelling out a bang, lifting his arm up in fake recoil. you gasp, griping at your torso, dramatically falling to the floor. "help me Nai, I've been shot!"

Nai rolls his eyes at the two of yours antics, making his way towards you and picking you up. As he makes his way towards your bedroom he says, "I have to give her medical attention, don't bother us."

Vash's eyes widen as he gets up to follow Nai. "Now wait a second!"

•the dorks actually do know how to share you. it was a little rough at the beginning but they've learned and figured things out pretty well! they don't fight for your attention, but they do get a little jealous, and pouty if you give too much attention to the other often. they're both pretty touch starved so good luck lol. however they do read eachother well and know when not to try and get your attention from the other.

•Vash would've loved the time when mustaches and the peace symbol were insanely popular.

•speaking of mustaches, Vash once came home wearing one of those fake glasses with mustache and nose disguises. when you turned to welcome him home he responded with a serious face, "who is Vash?" you fake a gasp asking who he is and what he's doing there. before Vash can respond, Nai is getting up with a grin on his face. "well since we don't know him, we can kick him out and make sure he can never get back in."

Vash nervously laughs, waving his hands, "we don't need to go that far haha.."

Nai laughs back mockingly,"why not? you are breaking into our house, stranger."

Vash immediately yanks the glasses off, "look! its me! Vash!" you gasp and run up to him, hugging his side. "Vash! there was a tall scary stranger in here! I'm glad you're here to help Nai protect me!"

Nai watches as Vash coddles you. he'd be lying to himself if he said he hated the antics you two do. he watches you give Vash a kiss on the cheek before walking over and pulling you away from Vash. "I'm the one that protected you, why are you praising him?" he asks, staring at you with narrowed eyes. Nai may look angry but really, he just wants kisses too.

•Vash loves bees! he'll go out to the little garden he's been working on and watch as bees and butterflies come by. it's one of his favorite pastimes.

•Vash is very involved with the community. he always offers the neighbors any extra food he's made and seeing if anyone needs help. he's happy to mow someone's lawn or weed a garden and do any small chores someone may be unable to do. Vash also goes around and tries to volunteer a lot since he can't really work. as much as he likes exploring hobbies, he gets a little restless being at home so much.

•Vash wants to try eating everything and that doesn't just include meals. somehow Vash learned that dandelions are edible and the next time you two take a walk, before you truly realize it, you're watching Vash shove the yellow part of a dandelion flower into his mouth.

•but seriously he really does want to try eating different plants. Vash does a lot of research and is always giving Nai suggestions of foods to incorporate into meals.

•if Vash could, I could absolutely see him working in the medical department as a pediatrician. he loves kids a lot and he's great at playing with kids, comforting them and making sure they feel as happy as they possibly can be at the hospital. he always jokes around with them, gets to know each kid he works with and always tries to be there for them when they're sad or scared.

•likewise, I know I said Nai would work at a book store, but I like to imagine Nai could become a surgeon. he's not lost to the irony in it, that he's saving lives, but it's just something he's taken an interest in. he wants to learn about human anatomy. (idk how to explain it really but it just makes sense to me. he'd be good at it too, never gets tired, steady hands, keen eyes, very precise)

•prank Vash a little bit when it comes to the modern era. tell him that when the plane lands everybody claps and applauds the pilots. Vash almost did that the first time he went flying, he lifted his hands up, but he was confused when no one started clapping. he catches on quickly that it was a prank.

•Vash combusts if you ever sing E.T by Katy Perry. stare at him as you sing it and he'll get so red in the face. he's covering his face with his hands and curling into himself and whining out to stop.(he doesn't want you to though)

•same with if you prank him and show him that The Bad Touch by Bloodhound Gang. go up to him and tell him you have a cool popular song to show and he lights up, Vash likes pretty much all of the songs you show him. when the song starts, he's bopping his head to the beat and tells you, smiling, it's cool so far. then the lyrics start and Vash's smile immediately falls and he blushes so hard. he can't even look at you and you're laughing your ass off at his reaction.

•Nai, the boring fucker, would just raise an eyebrow at you. he either doesn't fall for your pranks or just has no reaction. shame.