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kentopedia · 9 months

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dating port mafia boss dazai

contents: f!reader, implied violence, mostly dazai spoiling you so much, dazai is very soft in this, one litte nsfw scene !!

note: this reeks of self indulgence :,) my current obsession is pmboss!dazai being so sweet & gentle to his s/o

it goes without saying that if you're in the port mafia when you start dating dazai, he’ll probably want you to take less work in the field.

bc his main goal is keeping you safe, and he constantly worries about you when you're going on dangerous missions !!

though, sometimes you miss being in all the action. so, dazai will send you on missions with chuuya or akutagawa from time to time

he still worries, but he has no doubt they can keep you safe!!

he hates being nervous about whether or not you’ll come back to him, but he never wants you to feel like you're a prisoner in your own home.

if you want to go with him, anywhere or anytime, to any meeting, you just have to ask!

bc he trusts you completely <3 and he also knows you can take care of yourself.

if you want to work in other parts of the mafia, whether that be in training, intelligence, or behind the scenes work, dazai doesn’t care

he pretends to be uncompromising on some issues, but you can convince him of anything with a pretty smile.

but, if you're not in the port mafia, he (unfortunately) will make sure you have a bodyguard with you almost everywhere.

you insist its not necessary, but he knows he's made a lot of enemies that would love to use him against you. :(

though dazai has his moments of insanity (lol), he doesn't want to drive you away from him.

if you say its too much, he'll figure out something else. another way to keep you safe.

eventually, you come live with him, so that takes care of that.

dazai spoils you senseless !!

if he's ever late for a mission, he always comes back with something for you.

sometimes its flowers, sometimes its something even more elaborate

loves loves loves giving you jewelry

but everything he buys is very thoughtful!

he doesn't buy you expensive gifts just to flaunt money

its more that there isn't a price tag on things to him. if he sees something he thinks you'll like, it'll be yours, no matter the cost <3

"i'm home!" you said cheerfully, dropping your bag off by the door as you shouted to dazai through the penthouse.

the sound echoed back, and dazai didn't respond.

with a yawn, you headed towards your bedroom, stretching your muscles as you walked. the weather had been miserable that week, and between the heat and the rain, you were feeling more tired than ever.

what you longed for was a nice hot shower and a night in dazai's arms.

"osamu?" you said again, but the apartment remained quiet. there was no one in your bedroom when you opened the door.

you sighed, disappointed that he wasn't home to lay with you as you took a nap. though, your attention was quickly diverted by the newest addition to your bed.

a soft brown teddy bear, the same color as dazai's eyes, held a card, and a dark velvet box, paired with a bouquet of fresh flowers on your nightstand.

the note was short, but it was enough, and you couldn't help but smile as you read it.

i have to go out of the city for tonight. i'll be back in the morning. sorry i can't be with you, my darling. here's a little apology gift. i love you. - osamu

as usual, the gift was anything but small.

you flipped open the delicate box to reveal a gold necklace, a deep ruby dangling from the chain in the shape of a heart.

for a moment, you did nothing more than stare at the glittering gem that was edged by smaller diamonds, and you swelled with more love than your chest could handle.

carefully, you set the box down, wondering what you ever did to deserve something so beautiful. as much as you wanted to wear it immediately, you'd wait until osamu was back so he could help you put it on.

instead, you placed the card and the necklace by the flowers, and climbed into bed with the stuffed animal. as you nestled deeper into the comforter, curling your arms around the bear, you realized dazai had sprayed it with his cologne before he left.

dazai isn't the best about telling you how he feels. he is so much better at showing it.

if it isn't obvious, he loves buying you gifts! he has so much money as the port mafia boss, and he has no idea what to do with it. why not spend it on you!!

if you see an outfit in the store window that you like, dazai will have it tailored to your precise measurements. (which he has memorized, of course).

he loves shopping for you.

when he buys you pretty dresses, lingerie, and so on, all the other women in the store are swooning over him.

he knows exactly what you like and don't.

even if he thinks you'd look so beautiful in something, he knows your sense of style.

dazai doesn't want you to ever feel obligated to wear something just bc he picked it out for you.

of course, dazai always gives you his card to go shopping

and to get your nails done! he's obsessed with how pretty your hands look after getting a fresh set <3

he's loves them whatever color/design you think looks best. but i'd be lying if i said he wasn't obsessed with red nails.

dazai really loves the way they looked wrapped around his-

you rested your head on dazai's shoulder, letting your hands gently splay across his knee, your fingertips moving in a listless, delicate pattern.

though a film played before you, it was forgotten quickly, dazai's breath catching as he exhaled a laugh. "what are you doing?" he asked, and you smiled innocently, drifting your hand further up his thigh.

"nothing."

he blinked at you with wide brown eyes and swallowed, his throat bobbing as you reached his hip. you wrapped a delicate finger around his zipper, pulling it down slowly.

"nothing, hm?" he countered.

you turned to face him, sweeter now, as you tugged at his waistband. though dazai feigned disinterest for a moment, you felt him twitch beneath the thin layer of clothing.

his focus drifted down to your much softer hand, perfectly manicured and smaller than his own. he seemed fascinated, for a moment, by the way your fingers were moving. "your nails look pretty, love."

"i know.” you grinned. dazai's hips shifted, and you lowered his waistband, pressing a line of kisses up his neck slowly, teasing him.

you freed his cock, aching and hard, from his pants, and wrapped your hand around him. dazai let out a small gasp, though he watched as you lazily stroked him, the action perfected from experience.

"you're so pretty, 'samu." you watched his face turn red as he tried hard not to fall apart under your touch.

it was reassuring, really, to know that the most powerful man in the city was wrapped around your finger.

"not as pretty as you, baby," he said, but the word came out strained, raspy as you tightened your fist, running your teeth across the taut vein in his neck.

you laughed and moved onto his lap, kicking the remote off the couch before straddling him. his eyes melted into hearts as he stared up at you, begging for a kiss.

"you’ve been so busy this week,” you frowned. “i wanna make you feel good."

dazai jerked into you, breathing stifled as you brush your thumb over the tip. "you always do." his smile was affectionate, but his touch was desperate, digging into your sides. he was already searching for some sort of release.

"so impatient," you said, but you indulged him with a kiss anyway, his hands fisting in your hair as your tongue met his.

he breathed into you mouth, hot and heavy. "fuck," dazai hissed, lifting your hips to slip off your pajama shorts. "it's hard not to be when you're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. i need to be inside you."

dazai loves loves loves taking you out to expensive restaurants <3

he's not a big fan of crowds, though, so he'll rent out the entire place instead, just to get a private room for the two of you.

and if you don't feel like going out, but you want a nice meal, he'll hire a chef for the evening. one that specializes in whatever type of food you want

dazai's not the best cook, but he’ll do often, just because it makes you happy

he gets so much better over time, though.

whatever you want, he'll make it for you! and if he can't, he'll definitely find someone who can.

but! back to dazai letting you use his account to buy anything.

when you go to any shop associated with the mafia, everything is on the house

bc if the boss is going to funnel money into their pockets, the least they could do is give his girl some gifts !!

"is this... going to be all for you today, miss?" the cashier said, looking at the stack of clothing skeptically. he rang up price tag after price tag, watching as the numbers grew exponentially on the screen.

you nodded, smiling politely as he read off the total, a number that no average person would be able to spend reasonably in one go.

but dazai said you could get whatever you wanted for your birthday, and you hadn't let yourself indulge in a shopping spree for a while. so you'd picked up anything that suited you nicely and decided not to worry.

"how will you be paying today?"

you handed over the card, and the cashier read the name, glancing up at you with skeptical eyes.

"dazai osamu?"

you smiled sweetly. "it's my boyfriend's card."

though, the name had caught the attention of an older salesman across the room, and he was to the cashier in two swift steps, knocking him on the back of the head.

"dumbass," the older man swiped the card from the cashier before he could swipe the payment. "don't you know who she is?"

it took the man three more times of reading dazai's name across the plastic for it to click.

"i'm so sorry," he said, wide eyes suddenly anxious. "i had no idea you were—"

"it's okay. don't worry." you smiled, shrugging. "i won't tell him."

you meant it as a joke, but that only seemed to make the younger cashier more nervous.

"we'll take care of everything for you." the elderly salesman said, holding out the card to return it. "it's on us."

"really?" you pinched your eyebrows together, concerned. the bill was steep. it seemed unfair to let them take such a hit to profits. "at least let me pay for some of it.”

"no, don't worry about it. the boss said it was your birthday, so whatever you want, its yours."

for a moment, you weren't sure what to say. though, realizing that this store was just one of the many in yokohama that partnerned with dazai, you finally succumbed to a smile, and accepted their kindness.

you took dazai's card back and slipped it into your purse. "thank you so much.” you said sincerely, turning to leave with a small wave as you gathered up the bags and bags of clothes. "it was nice to meet you. i'll come back soon!"

though they said nothing, they both stared back at you with wide eyes, as most people did when they found out you were the one that had captured dazai's heart.

when dazai finds out how much you love to read, he clears out an entire floor of the port mafia headquarters to make you a library

its done far too elaborately, with classical decorations, a very intricate chandelier, and a view that looks over the entire city

there are special editions, original copies of your favorite books, books in languages you can't even read and so on

he went a little overboard, but he was just so excited to show you :(

"osamu." you stare, blinking at the vast room, not really sure what to say other than his name.

"what?" he's pouting instantly, wondering if he made a mistake, and you didn't like to read as much as he thought. "do you not like it?"

you don't think your heart has ever felt so full before, and you manage a shaky smile, wondering how it didn't split your face in two. "this is too much. you did all this for me?"

and he seems surprised you would even ask such a silly question, because why wouldn't he give you something you've always wanted? "if it makes you feel better, i'll tell you i did it for myself."

you laugh, and then you're launching yourself at him, throwing your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. you nearly cry, because even though he spoils you far too much, this is the most thoughtful gift you've ever received.

"thank you." you whisper, kissing him all over his face, and he smiles, his cheeks warm from your affection.

dazai leads you to a shelf after that, pointing out a few novels that have his name scribbled in the front cover, all with varying states of penmanship.

he's collected all his favorite books there for you, hopeful you'll read them first.

dazai places you next to him in every mafia meeting

if you're going to be his partner, you're also going to be his equal <3

and he knows that you can keep everyone in the mafia in line. he trusts you to be in charge when he's not there

bc everyone in the mafia likes you more than dazai anyway! (except maybe akutagawa)

and yes, dazai is the sweetest to you <3 but certainly not to everyone else

he disposes of people that bother you... far too quickly

the man at the store made you uncomfortable? he doesn't live in the city anymore. someone was too handsy? they'll lose a few fingers.

but if someone in the mafia says even one unkind word to you, you'll never see them again.

"sweetheart, what's wrong?"

you sniffed, wiping the tears from your eyes as his hands snuck around your waist. he pulled you closer towards him, sliding next to you on the bed.

"it's nothing." you swallowed, but your eyes were still glassy no matter how hard you tried to stop crying. "i shouldn't get so worked up about things people say."

"hey," he coaxed your hands away from your face, tilting your chin up. "if it's upsetting you, it's a big deal to me, my love."

you said nothing for a moment, but dazai remained patient, smiling softly at you as he stroked your cheek.

never able to resist the gentleness that he showered only you in, you sighed. "some people just said…” you trailed off, almost not wanting to tell him. it seemed embarrassing, in some way, to say something lewd about yourself, even if you were merely repeating the words.

“said what?”

you chewed the inside of your lip before sighing, knowing dazai wouldn’t let the issue rest until you told him.

“they just said that you only kept me around to fuck me.” you dropped your gaze to your hands for a moment, letting them rest limply in your lap. “that i was just some stupid bitch you’d leave behind soon.”

you watched the smile slowly fall from his lips, his eyes hardening with a fury that wasn't directed at you.

"you know that's not true." he held your hands tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. "tell me that you know that."

you managed something of a smile. "i know. i really do know how much you love me. doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt my feelings.”

he nodded, somewhat satisfied as the cloudiness began to clear from your face. "who was it? if you don't know they're name, just describe them." his expression was icy, dangerous, even if his hands were soft.

"osamu, i told you it doesn't matter—" you frowned, looking away before he interrupted.

“it does fucking matter." his words came out sharp. "those men work for me, and i'm not going to let them treat you like that. they've got no business being here if they can't respect you."

at the end of the day, dazai's reputation remains very much intact. he will always be feared in the city, despite exposing himself as a man who's so so in love

but everyone in the mafia is secretly pleased to see him a little happier, even if its just around you.

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sanguineterrain · 11 months

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redamancy | steve harrington

Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)

A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.

divider by firefly-graphics

i. the promise

"Would you ever get married?"

You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it.

You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety!

"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."

You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same.

"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married."

You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.

"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin.

"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago."

You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."

"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."

"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve."

"I guess."

You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten.

"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask.

Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Dangerous."

He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."

"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."

Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious.

"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."

Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."

"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer."

"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"

"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."

You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."

Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me."

"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?"

"Not even to her."

You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.

"I'd marry you," you say.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up.

"What?"

"Like, if you were in a pinch."

He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth.

"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."

"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."

"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."

"I hope she kept the receipt."

Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth.

"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"

"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."

"I scoop ice cream for a living."

You level him with a look.

"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."

His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why.

"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says.

Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with.

"Let's make a pact," you say softly.

He meets your eye. "A pact?"

"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."

"Well, I don't want a pity marriage."

You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."

"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks.

"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say.

"I can't wait till I'm thirty."

"Or you'll turn into an old maid?"

"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat.

You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"

Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!

Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do.

"Do you mean it?" he asks.

"Of course I do."

"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"

"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."

"You'll marry me?"

"I will."

"Swear on it."

You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.

You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?

"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."

"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."

"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."

"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"

"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."

Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart.

"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night."

Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve.

"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"

"Always."

Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you.

"'Kay. See you."

You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb.

Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away.

ii. the wound

The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow.

Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though.

You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep.

Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far.

She looks away, and your not-smile falls.

"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly.

The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die.

Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that.

"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears.

"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—"

The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her.

"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand.

"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long."

They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening.

So he did. And now you're here.

You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better.

"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead.

"Come sit," you say.

"I need to see him," he tells you.

"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"

"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."

You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita.

Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait.

At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all.

"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."

Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels.

A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.

"Go on."

Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway.

"Go see him."

You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.

“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.

“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly.

Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.

"Yes, he does."

She holds out her hand.

You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.

“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there."

God, are you really that obvious?

You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.

Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter.

Steve’s eyes lock with yours.

“Hey,” is all you say.

“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats.

“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”

You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you?

You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side.

The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.

You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.

“Robin called me,” you say.

Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”

“You’re mad at me.”

Your breath is punched out of you.

“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”

His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.

You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour.

“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”

You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.

“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared."

He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.

They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him.

But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.

You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.

His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.

"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”

"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't."

You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his.

iii. the brand

“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.

“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.

“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.

It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.

“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks.

“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.”

“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”

Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve.

“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.

“Me?!”

“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”

“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”

“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”

“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.

As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.

“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.

“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Just checking.”

“Are you okay?”

He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.

“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”

“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”

He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair.

"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."

"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly.

"Pot, kettle."

"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."

"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks.

"If you get us there in one piece, yes."

Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers.

"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"

"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say.

Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve.

"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."

"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says.

You scoff. "More like the other way around."

He pouts. "Hey."

"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van.

"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks.

You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"

"No!" all three say.

"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters.

Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops.

"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"

"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"

"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat.

You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve.

"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."

Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded.

"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests.

"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."

"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."

You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years.

But this? This is way, way beyond that.

"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"

You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair.

"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."

Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."

"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."

Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"

You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always.

"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"

You wince at the wording.

"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."

You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."

Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve.

"Right, so I'll just…"

You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest.

"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."

"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly.

Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time.

"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke.

Steve smiles gently. "Hey."

His tone is fond. You feel sick.

"Everybody good?" Eddie asks.

He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection.

"You two look cozy."

"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already."

Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.

It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again.

You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation.

“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”

Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.

“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.

He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.

“Really, Munson?”

“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”

“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.

Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs.

God, you’re never living this down.

“Y’okay?”

Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.

“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”

“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”

Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip.

Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin.

The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.

Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.

Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.

Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight.

He looks like he's yours.

"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation.

He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question.

"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you."

He relaxes.

"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."

"Uh-huh."

You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.

The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not.

Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there.

Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks.

"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."

You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face.

iv. the secret

It's raining. You're in Steve's bed.

Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent.

You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you.

"Do you think he'll come back?"

You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though.

Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight.

Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married.

You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars.

"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness.

You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light.

"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."

He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you.

God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you?

"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper.

Steve squeezes your hand harder.

"No one's gonna die."

You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles.

"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?"

"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again.

"You can stay here as long as you want," he says.

"I can go back to my room."

Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.

"Don't," he says.

"Okay."

You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive.

The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him.

His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair.

It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.

+ and, finally, the first.

"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for.

"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."

He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away.

"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"

You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.

"What?" Steve asks, looking at you.

"You're funny, that's what."

"I am?"

"You sound like somebody's grandpa."

"I do not!"

"Do too," you say sweetly.

"Do not."

"Do too infinity."

Steve rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."

"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man."

"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart.

You smile. Steve shakes his head.

"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."

"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart.

"And you don't push the cart."

You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven."

"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?"

"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle.

You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.

“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”

“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”

You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you.

“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”

You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.

“What?” you ask.

Steve shakes his head.

“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”

“Steve, seriously. What is it?”

He shakes his head again.

“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”

He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.

The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established.

When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.

“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.

You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him.

Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot.

“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”

“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”

You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity.

“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.

“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.

“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back.

Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat.

“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”

You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.

“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”

You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.

“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”

You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty.

“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”

You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”

You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses.

Now you know: tenderly.

He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise.

You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you.

“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.

“Huh?”

“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”

You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.

“What?” he asks.

“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say.

Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times.

You hope you’ll lose track at some point.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things x you

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lemonlover1110 · 3 months

Note

Hello! I hope you are doing well 😌 you are my fav writer and I just wanted to to throw out this crazy brainrot request to u bc I am SICK over it

So Florence nightingale syndrome right? Toji is like a professional boxer or whatever something athletic bc he's a fucking beast and he gets hurt, like his leg or something, and you become his at home occupational therapist. So you're like taking care of him and he's getting feelings for you while also being a stubborn ass bc u push him constantly so he can get better. and he's super hesitant to accept his feelings bc he's a Playboy of course.

I'm just picturing this one scene where you're helping him up and he's leaning on you and he says something like "are you sure you can handle me princess?" Idk I'm insane I'm sorry 😭😭😭😭

Pairing: boxer!Toji Fushiguro x f!caregiver!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, frustrated Toji, Florence nightingale syndrome, Toji has an injured leg and is a little bitch for a bit

*This was so fun to work on and now I'm having thinking a little too hard about boxer toji (I'm ovulating) sofjsof enjoy!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji never really thought he’d be dependent on someone, yet now he can’t even take a shower standing up. After an unlucky boxing match, Toji ended up in a cast and crutches. That’s what he gets for not listening to his son who told him it was around time to retire.

“I’m not a fucking skeleton, I’m good in my field. I can do this for a couple more years.” How he wishes he could swallow his fucking words. He thought that after getting the cast off he’d go back to normal, and he’d have no issue with mobility. He shouldn’t have an issue moving his fucking leg again, he’s been moving it for more than thirty years, why should three months of not moving it change much?

Apparently he can’t do anything, which is why he has someone with him all day every day, helping him so he can get better. Toji’s main issue? He gets frustrated when someone tries to help him.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” You smile at him as you put his dinner in front of him. He has a scowl on his face as you set it down in front of him. He tried to help make dinner but he couldn’t stand for too long. He’s mad, but not at you. He could never be mad at you.

Toji wasn’t necessarily fond of you when you started working with him; he hates being dependent on someone else, and he knew that he would have to depend on you for pretty much everything. You try to help him though, and he should be more appreciative of you because of it, but in reality he feels like a fucking baby. He’s grown to like you though… A little too much for his liking.

You leave him to eat, going to wash the dishes since he can’t do the task yet. Perhaps his own bowl and spoon, but not everything that needs to be cleaned. You watch him from the counter, watching his refusal to pick up the spoon and eat the soup you made him. Earlier he was so prideful, telling you that he would help you every step of the way during dinner, and he couldn’t even finish one third of it. You were proud of him regardless.

“It’s really good, Toji! The potatoes you helped peel really added a touch to it.” You’ve gotten close enough to be on a first name basis. You see each other every day, you stay in the same house, of course you’re close enough to talk to each other so casually. It doesn’t mean you should though. You’ve always managed to keep a very professional relationship with patients, but there’s just something about him that makes it hard for you to be normal around him.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a fucking kid.” He says, pushing the bowl of soup away. He’s not hungry anymore. Toji stands up, his hands holding on to the table to support himself before grabbing his crutches.

“Toji, if you’re not eating it, can you try to bring it over to me, please?” You ask. You know the soup has cooled down, if he spills it, he’ll be fine.

“If you want it, pick it up yourself.” Toji is clearly mad. You don’t take it to heart though, because you know it’s with himself and not you.

“How about we go to the park tomorrow? It’s supposed to be a nice day out.” You talk to Toji who tries to watch a documentary. He’s not all that interested in what he put on, caring more about what you have to say. He might not show it, and he tries to deny it, but he has the biggest soft spot for you. “We can also get some ice cream, if you’re in the mood!”

“Hey… I’m sorry about earlier. I was just—” It’s hard to get an apology out of him, but sometimes he knows he’s in the wrong and he feels the need to apologize. He doesn’t want you to be mad at him, even though you’re clearly not upset with him. You’re so understanding and patient with him, he feels like he doesn’t deserve that.

“You’re fine, Toji.” You reassure him with a smile, your hand going over his balled up fist. You feel your heart skip a beat as you touch him. You’ve crossed the line past a professional relationship, and you should set some boundaries within yourself– But his other hand goes on top of your own before he brings it up, softly kissing your knuckles. It’s hard to set boundaries when he feels the same way.

“I’m tired.” He tells you, and you stand up to help him get up. Toji usually denies your help, but this time, he has no problem accepting it. You just want the best for him, and there’s some things that he can’t do completely alone. He has to take baby steps. He’s using you for support, and he’s scared that he’s too heavy for you. He asks you, “Are you sure, princess? Can you handle me? I know I’m pretty big.”

“You’re fine. I can handle you.” You reassure him, and you begin to walk to his bedroom. His room was previously on the second floor, but ever since his injury, he’s moved his bedroom to the first floor. You get him to his bedroom, helping him on the bed. You smile at him before saying, “Let me grab your crutches. You left them in the living room, right?”

Before you can walk away, he grabs your sleeve. Toji’s slowly realizing that he can’t fight off the feelings that consume him when you help him, and he’s usually not a fan of them. Toji’s been tied down once before, he certainly doesn’t want that again. But with you, it’s different. He doesn’t mind the idea.

“Will you lay down with me?” He asks, and you suck in your bottom lip between your teeth. You shouldn’t. He caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before he prompts himself up to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“Toji, you know this isn’t something I can do.” You tell him as he looks lovingly into your eyes. “I’m here to help you get better.”

“You can help me get better by laying down next to me.” Toji responds. You grab the hand that so lovingly touches your cheek and kiss it, before bringing your lips down to meet his momentarily. He swears he hears fireworks when your lips meet, even after you pull away.

He’s most definitely in love with you.

“I’ll go get your crutches. Good night, Toji.”

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thebearer · 8 months

Text

the milestones menu: nonna berzatto's homemade pasta

prompt: yours and carmen's first "i love you".

contains: fluff, general fluff. some mentions to dead relatives, carmen's self doubt, but very minimal bc it's very fluffy :)

2 cups of flour- Semolina.

4 Large Eggs

Pinch of Salt

Put flour into a mound. Make a center, and add the eggs to the middle. Whisk slowly with a fork, gradually working it in little at a time until nice and thick. Knead the mixture for about ten minutes. Let it rest in the fridge for thirty minutes. Put it in a ball, and roll it out very thin.

“Can’t believe you never had homemade pasta.” Carmen shook his head, blue eyes peeking out from under the mess of curls.

“Nope.” You shook your head, grinning over the crystal wine glass, sipping your riesling slowly. “Strictly a boxed pasta girl.”

“Fuckin’ criminal.” Carmen grinned, a playful, lopsided smirk that had you blushing.

The counter was covered in flour, stopping just where you rested, propped up on the granite while Carmen worked. Your eyes trained on his hands, hands that stirred the eggs into the flour, kneaded the dough until your thighs were clenching.

“My Nonna is rollin’ in her grave right now, you know that?” Carmen pulled you from your gaze, rolling out the dough.

“Noooo, don't say that.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re making me feel bad, Carmen. I swear I thought Olive Garden made fresh pasta.”

Carmen laughed, a little shy but louder now- more himself. He’d blossomed with you lately, unveiling new parts of himself every single day. “‘M just kiddin’, baby.” Carmen hummed, eyes cutting to you a little skeptical. “Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to sound like an asshole. That sounded douchey, right?”

You smiled, setting your glass behind you. “No, I was just messin’ with you, bear.” The nickname- his nickname. Hearing it more and more roll from your tongue, each time his heart skipped harder than the last.

“Is this her recipe?” You asked, picking up the faded recipe card, looped cursive on the aged paper. “Your Nonna’s?”

“Yeah,” Carmen nodded. “I, uh, so when I left to go to culinary school, right? She was sick, and… and I think she, like, knew that when I went to New York that would be the last time she saw me.” Carmen’s face dropped, slow and sad, it made your own heart sink.

“So she-she gave me all these recipe books and-and cards that were hers. We used to cook together a lot. She taught me how to cook, y’know? My mom and dad were always at the restaurant and didn’t want to cook when they got home. They didn’t want me in the restaurant either so I spent a lot of time with her.” Carmen muttered. You could see the memories playing behind his eyes.

You liked to picture that version of Carmen, a little boy with wild curls, helping his Nonna cook. Happy memories.

“That’s sweet.” You smiled, leaning against the cabinets. “She did a really good job. You know she’s so insanely proud of you.”

Carmen snorted, shaking his head lightly. “Yes, she is. Everyone’s proud of you, Carmen… I’m proud of you.” You hesitate, eyes scanning his features. It was true, of course, but handling Carmen sometimes was like handling a frightened animal. You were never sure what would make him scatter away in fear.

Carmen swallowed thickly, cheeks flushed red, lips in a tight line. “T-Thanks.” Carmen muttered, wiping his hands on his apron, tossing the flour back into his clammy hands.

“She, uh, she woulda loved you, y’know.” Carmen’s eyes met yours, intense and piercing. “I wish you coulda met her.”

“Yeah, me too.” You nod. “I would’ve loved to hear all the baby Carmen cooking stories. I bet she had some good ones.” You smiled, bright and wide- perfect. It made Carmen’s brain numb.

“Yeah, she would.” Carmen nodded, hands stilling, still buried in the dough.

He felt it in his bones, his heart, consuming his thoughts. The overwhelming need he’d felt for weeks, since the first time you kissed him really, that he’d been fighting- too scared to say. What he felt every time he looked at you, when he thought about you.

“Um, I-I wanna say something, and-and I don’t know if I should even fuckin’ say this or-or if it’s… fuck, if you-you feel the same or I just, I don’t wanna fuck this up because this is like the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and-and I’m workin’ on not ruinin’ good shit in my life and bein’ ok with it like-like my therapist says ya know, but-” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in fast, overwhelming bouts that took you by surprise.

Carmen flustered, reaching a dough covered hand to his face, the sticky batter catching on his brows and hair. He flushed deeply, hands shaking in embarrassment, cursing under his breath. “F-Fuck, I-I’m sorry. I-I, nevermind, it’s not… I don’t know why-why I would-” His hands trembled, body shaking with anger and embarrassment. Way to fuckin’ go, Berzatto, you fuckin’ ruin it. That’s all you ever do, Carmen thought bitterly, wiping his hands off on the cloth.

“Carm,” You said softly, your voice a beacon in the raging sea of his mind, pulling him out of his own harsh thoughts.

Carmen turned, a fury flush of pure embarrassment that burnt all down his cheeks to his chest. Eyes soft and wary, hesitant like he was doomed, destined for the worse.

You slide off the counter easily, grabbing the spare towel, bringing it to his eyebrows, wiping the dough off gently. The softness of your touch soothed Carmen, lulling his hammering heart- he didn’t see your own shaking hands, filled with your own adrenaline nerves.

You stood in front of him, eyes on the other, careful and watching- unsure. “I-I love you, too.” Your breath hitched, squeezing the words out in a nervous tumble. Carmen didn’t move, body going rigid, heart stopping entirely. The ringing was back in his ears, clouding his brain so loudly he was sure he heard you wrong.

“I’ve wanted to say it for a while, too, but didn’t…” You shook your head, heat in your own cheeks, eyes casting down to his dough covered hand. “I didn’t know if-if you felt that or if- I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem crazy or obsessive if it was too soon, and-and scare you.”

“No,” Carmen croaked, tongue thick in his own mouth. “No, I-I mean- fuck,” Carmen shook his head, looking to the wall. He needed a second, words jumbled in his mouth, heart racing, so high off the adrenaline he felt like he could combust at any moment.

“I-I was gonna say that too.” Carmen nodded, the quirk in your lips making his heart lurch. “That I love you. I was- yeah, I love you. I-I have for a while.”

“Really?” You whispered, voice tiny and excited, like it was a secret just for the two of you. Maybe it was.

“Yeah, fuck yeah.” Carmen let out a breathy, shaky laugh. “I love you, and-and I just love you so much it makes my brain hurt sometimes.”

“Me too.” You grin, a hand pressing to his cheek. “I love you.” The phrase you’d repressed for so long, deprived yourself of saying now spilled out of you like a mantra- like that was all you could say now.

Carmen grinned, brain bubbly and light. He let you pull him into a kiss, head tilting down, lips molding over yours so they fit perfectly.

Later over plates of Bologonese, you grinned across the table from Carmen. “If I didn’t tell you I loved you before, I definitely would now.” You moaned, pointing at the plate. “I really was missing out.”

Carmen beamed under your praise, gooey and love drunk off your words- off you. He knew Viola Berzatto, wherever she was, was boasting with pride.

And he knew his Nonna would have loved you too.

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atsumwah · 2 years

Text

about time

featuring : iwaizumi hajime

includes : you being oikawa's sister, brothers best friend trope, a teeny tiny mention of drinking, and you and makki being besties

notes : i legit put iwa and bo in the wheel name spinning thing bcs i was too indecisive to pick and iwa won three in a row....the universe apparently sided with this hunk 2day ! ignore the mistakes if you find any, i’ll fix em laterzzz :)))

being oikawa's sister had its perks.

you're instantly popular, you have boys queuing up to get your number, every girl in the school was nice to you ( though they only wanted to get closer to your brother but you didn't care honestly) so really there wasn't anything you can complain about.

except that you have the biggest crush on your brother's best friend.

it's not that he's just hot, like insanely godly hot, he's also really nice. all the years you've known iwaizumi, there wasn't a moment where he wasn't a gentleman to you, despite being together for so long people might mistake you three as siblings.

like when you were five and fell on your knees, he was the one who ran to get the first aid kit (damn your brother he did nothing but laugh, the audacity)

or when you were thirteen when you were scared to walk alone after school without oikawa because he was sick and iwaizumi offered himself up despite having his classes end way earlier than you (and continues to do so when your brother couldn't accompany you)

or when you were 21, drunk off your ass at a bar and having him pick you up, knowing that his campus was literally halfway across town but still came when he heard you sobbing at the other end of the phone.

the little things he does makes your heart flutter, toes curl and mind only filled with thoughts of him. he's the reason why your standards in men are so high and you aren't going to settle less than any of that. you weren't going to settle if it wasn't him.

even so, you're pretty sure he doesn't see you in the same light. again, you've known each other for years, you basically grew up together, so you're pretty sure he only sees you as his best friend annoying little sister (even worse, he's own little sister)

"why does he have to be like that, makki?" you whine, your head lulling to the right to rest on your best friend's shoulder.

"that being?" he teased, taking a sip from his drink as he eyed you from the side.

"you know, irresistibly hot." you gestured to iwaizumi who was working at the counter, "how am i supposed to move on if i see him everyday?"

"that's your own fault. you know he works here."

you did but that's not the point.

"still," you grumbled out, "thought i was being obvious enough. can't he just, i don't know,reject me?"

"honey, you and i both know he's oblivious as hell. i think you need to spell it out for him to get it."

you groaned, hitting your head against the table again.

"hey, what if i set you up with a guy? maybe you'll learn to move on." makki suggested.

it wasn't like the idea of meeting someone new hasn't crossed your mind before. it's just that, well, they're not him.

"did you miss the part where haji's literally perfect and most men aren't?"

"ahem."

"most men besides haji and you aren't."

"better." he said smugly before continuing. "what if i made sure he checks all your boxes, hmm? i know a lot of people."

"i don't know," you bit your lip, "i guess i trust you…"

"that's a dangerous thing to do, you know?"

your head whipped to the sound of his voice coming from behind you.

"i'm literally your best friend, dude."

"not by choice."

a chuckle escaped your lips at his bluntness.

"hey!"

"what are you talking about and why are you trusting makki with it?"

before you could even answer, makki did for you.

"we were talking about setting her up on a date," he said proudly.

"a date, huh?" he eyed you from the side, "thought you had all the boys lining up your feet, princess."

you're so unfair, hajime.

"they're not that interesting, i guess." you said instead.

"good. keep your standards high. you can't trust men these days."

"you're literally a man."

"i'm different."

"ahem." makki not so subtly coughed again.

"like I said, i'm different—ow— i will literally kick you, makki."

you only smiled, never agreeing more with a statement. he was different, or maybe there was something different about the way you felt for him compared to anyone else. and as much as you wanted something more with him, you're smart enough to realize that that dream was way out of reach.

maybe going on a blind date wouldn't be the worst idea.

***

"i'm so gonna kill you!"

"what'd he do?" makki said on the other line.

"not only did he criticize what i ordered, he even took some of my food and didn't even ask for it! he said and i quote 'a pretty thing like you can't finish this, right?' you know i don't share food!"

"i’m sorry bout that honey. he seemed pretty cool when i talked to him before. he did looked excited when he saw a picture of you."

"ugh men. that's it, i'm just gonna wait for my prince charming to come."

"so no more blind dates?"

"nope." you clicked your tongue as you opened the door to your apartment. "thanks hiro, i did appreciate the thought. i'm gonna call it a night."

"alright, sleep tight honey."

you removed the phone lodged between your shoulder and ear before dropping through keys in the bowl next to the door.

"you're home early."

you let out a gasp at the sudden intruder, your heart calming down when you realize who it was. "my god, how did you come in?"

"you gave me the keys, dumbass." iwaizumi shook the spare keys in front of you, then settled himself on the countertop. "so how was your date?"

"how'd you know it was today?" you took off your coat and immediately went to the refrigerator, taking out a can of—well two cans— of something that would probably make you forget your date.

"makki's not one to keep quiet, you know."

"right. well, it's a lost cause you could say."

"that bad?"

"yup," you downed it down immediately, wincing at the aftertaste. "what're you doing here anyways? it's late."

"had to make sure you got back safe." he said nonchalantly, "your brother would've nagged me if something happened to you."

"i'm a big girl, hajime. i can take care of myself." you said, annoyed, though your beating heart says otherwise. "pretty sure he's dying for me to get someone. he's always saying how i'm repulsing men."

"we both know that's not true, princess," he says.

ugh there it is again. that stupid nickname that makes you weak in the knees for the man in front of you.

"yeah well…" you started, avoiding his eyes as you spoke, "i appreciate you coming to check up on me but i don't need another brother breathing down my back, alright?"

you expect him to shrug it off or to roll his eyes like oikawa would but instead you're confused at his next words.

"do i really give off that impression to you?"

you turned your head towards him. it almost sounded like he was hurt. "what do you mean?"

"nothing." he says almost instantly after that. "nothing, i just— forget i said anything." and with that he goes off to grab his coat hanging by the rack.

but you were curious. because the way he said it seemed like it was out of surprise. like it's the first time he realized that.

"wait," you grabbed his arm before he could go. "tell me what you mean by that?"

was it the booze that made you act this way too? yeah probably.

" 's doesn't matter. forget it, alright?" he makes a move to leave but tug his arm out. you hold on tighter.

"tell me." you say, persistently. "i’m not letting you go until you tell me. i'll jump on your back right now even."

"let go."

"for someone bigger than my brother you sure are a wimp."

"are you trying to provoke me?"

"is it working?" you said before adding, "wimp."

"it's not working."

you pouted. "it always works with tooru."

"that's because he has a huge ego." he let out a yelp when you actually fulfilled your threat by jumping on his back. "hey, get off!"

"not until you tell me!" you locked your legs around him with your arms around his neck to stay determined. "this usually works on tooru too. only it involves a lot more hair pulling." you said triumphantly, before realizing how close your face has gotten to his. apparently he noticed it too judging by how wide his eyes are and how red he looks up close.

"if i tell you, you might hate me." he whispers, words only for you to hear.

"i could never hate you." that's ridiculous. you were literally in love with him, hello?

he looked uncertain, but eventually gave in when you were still stubborn to let him go.

“...i like you, y/n."

pardon?

"if you're messing with me, i will pull your hair out." you managed to say.

"please don't. mine doesn't grow as fast as your shitty brother."

"you're…for real then?"

"yes."

"then why would you think i hate you?"

iwaizumi winced, like the next few words were gonna be painful. "you said you think of me as a brother."

"because i thought you only saw me as a sister!" you blurted out.

"what?" his big saucer eyes matching your own. "what're you saying?"

"i'm in love with you." you bit your lip and continued on. "i've been in love with you ever since i can remember."

there. it was finally out, no takesies backsies. honestly it felt good to have that in the open. it was like ripping off a bandaid, painful but at the same time, relieving.

but then panic set in when he didn't say anything for a solid minute.

you watched as his face slowly turned red till the tip of his ears and his mouth opening, closing, as if still figuring out what to say. his hands moved first, slowly taking you off of his back and turning your body so you were now hugging him from the front, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

"so… we like each other?" he says, lips unbelievably close to your own.

"apparently."

"so if i wanted to kiss you, your would say…" he trails off, eyes solely focusing on your lips.

"i'd say it's about damn time, haji." you mimicked his movements.

"about damn time," he mutters before claiming your lips with his.

about damn time indeed.

#haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi drabble #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fanfic #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!#hq fluff #hq iwaizumi

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earthtooz · 1 year

Text

x : BOX OF SURPRISES :*+ﾟ

in which: sampo has something for you and you fall a little more in love with him.

warnings: 1k wc, FLUFF (slight angst), reader is a little mean :,) but it's bc sampo's annoying, gn!merchant!reader, banter, seemingly unrequited feelings, ambiguous relationship?

a/n: need this pathetic sop of a man so badly it's not even funny. anyways, enjoy! pls rb if u liked it :D

“sampo, what is the meaning of this?” setting down the heavy boxes of goods with a huff, suspicion stirs in your gut.

“did you not see my text earlier? i could have sworn you read it,” he hums, trailing off thoughtfully as he looks at you through his swept-aside strands of hair.

you look away from the carefree glint in his eyes whilst ignoring the pounding of your heart.

“i’m working, sampo- being an ethical and trustworthy merchant is a hard job, y’know?”

the man laughs, boisterous and loud. a migraine is coming, it's only natural to get one after dealing with its human embodiment.

“don’t you have other things to do?” you mutter.

“what, other than talking with my favourite fellow merchant?”

“you mean terrorising.”

sampo laughs again. this time, he shuts his eyes close and grins so wide that he flashes his annoyingly perfect teeth. it’s so painful that he’s so beautiful, if only that could excuse his horrendous personality (you adore him).

pretending to wipe a tear from his eyes, he sighs wistfully. “this is why i love talking to you, never a dull moment with you, y/n.”

you try not to let his flattery get to you. besides, he probably says this to all of his competitors just to butter them up, breaking their walls before inevitably taking them and distributing their resources to consumers at cheaper prices.

“whatever, sampo. will you leave me alone now?”

“hey, hey, hey, what’s the rush?” he asks, putting his hands on his hips. you try not to look at the exposed skin that sits above. “the business day is over. don’t you have some time to spare for little old me?”

“the business day may be over for me but never for crooks like you. besides. i need to pack up and i want to go home, so i don’t appreciate any delays.”

“you think of me as a mere ‘delay’?” sampo gestures to himself, all grandiose and dramatics. “i’m hurt, and here i was thinking that we had a connection.”

there’s a part of you that hopefully yearns for him to expand on the ‘connection’ he so speaks of, but the desire fades as quickly as it appears, replaced with dejection instead. to cross the line with sampo koski would be fatal for your business and you fear that you were already toeing the boundaries. tolerating and talking to him for goodwill was one thing, but going ahead and falling for him was another.

furthermore, you don’t like the feeling that he knows about how you feel. everywhere you turn, sampo is there, leaning against the wall, looking like temptation itself as he toys with those small blades of his. they’re kind of like boomerangs, but you’re not too sure.

there’s a lot about sampo you’re not too sure about- perhaps if you weren’t a competing merchant, you would have tried to learn them all.

“you drive me insane,” you murmur, packing up all the leftover goods into a crate.

“let me help you,” he offers, picking up some goods and sorting them without permission. you have half a mind to slap him away, but against the better judgement of your brain, you allow him to assist.

when the crate is filled, sampo walks over to grab another empty box, passing it to you. you eye him suspiciously and the blue-haired merchant is quick to make a comment on your speculatory glance.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“why are you… helping me?”

“what? is it so wild that sampo koski can be of assistance? i have some good in my heart, ya know,” he sings, reaching over your stall to adjust the twisted strap of your outfit.

sampo winks at you when he meets your gaze again.

you hate the way your body reacts to his fleeting touch, and the way you want more. you want to feel how his hands would fit in yours, or around your waist, or holding your face, or-

“speechless, are we now?” chuckles the merchant. “i normally elicit this reaction-”

shaking your thoughts away, you cut him off with a slam of your crate, defeated by the betrayal of your own wandering mind. “sampo.”

for a moment, shock shines in his eyes, his hair bouncing as he jolts. you also can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to run your hands through it. if he won’t share his heart then perhaps his hair care routine could do, after all, it is unfair to have such luminous hair despite running around all day.

“didn’t you have something for me?” you ask, trying not to let your exasperation bleed into your tone. “that’s why you’re here, no?”

he presses a hand to his chest and acts like he's been shot. “so you read my message and chose not to reply? i’m hurt, y/n, how cou-”

“sampo. please, i’m in no mood to banter. can we get this exchange over and done with?”

for a flash of a second, you delude yourself into seeing a slight furrow in sampo’s eyebrows, expression moulding into something akin to sadness. it’s a face that will haunt your dreams, you think, especially with the way he glanced away from you, doubt evident in his body language as he nods shyly.

it's not like sampo to break eye contact, but he recovers too quickly for you to comment on it and then further shuts you up when he presents an innocently pretty box. through common sense, it looks like a box of chocolates, but because you know sampo koski, you’re a little frightful of the contents inside.

“wh-what’s the meaning of this?” you ask, eyeing the gift carefully.

sampo pushes it further towards you. “open it and find out!”

“it’s not going to blow up in my face, is it?”

“do you think so little of me?”

“yes, because you trick people like this, sampo, by presenting a seemingly innocent box of chocolates and then bam- they blow up in-”

“okay, okay, i promise this isn’t one of them ones that go ‘bam’! trust me!”

"okay... i'll trust you on this one."

with a little reluctance, you take the outstretched box, scepticism written all over your face. preparing for the worst, you untie the little bow and gently lift off the cover, melting at the contents within.

chocolates of various sizes and design litter the inside and the cuteness of it is enough to make you melt, the small smile appearing on your face only a tiny indication of the affection growing within you. not to mention, these sweets don’t look like the cheap mimics that the underworld produces. how did sampo get his hands on these, and why would he give them to you?

suddenly laced with guilt at the unnecessary attitude and rudeness you showed him earlier, you look up with a ‘thank you’ and apology on the tip of your tongue, but he’s gone. disappeared into thin air at the crumbling of your heart's walls.

disappointed, you sigh and make a mental note to thank him the next time you see him. resuming your packing up, you’re unaware of the new brightness your expression carries, and how you move around with a little more bounce to your step.

hugging the gift close to you, a certain merchant lays low nearby and watches how enthused you seem by the new gift. sampo concludes then and there that your smile is priceless and he would do anything to be the cause of it.

if only he could tell you.

#my pookie...#exams are over and the first thing i write is sampo. what is happening.#anyways.#sampo x reader #sampo koski x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai x reader #sampo fluff #sampo x reader fluff

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starsandhughes · 7 months

Text

Penalty Box Series— Trevor Zegras Edition (Four)

23-24 Season Masterlist

previous: three

next: five

a/n: i skipped the coyotes game bc it was... so boring... and there was zero z content in it

OCTOBER 22, 2023

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, and 16,439 others

yourusername welcome back to my post game penalty box update show: sissy missed shatty edition! (alternatively titled "my fiancée took a hard hit and then looked like the greek god he is on the bench and i can't wait to take a trip to mount olympus")

after a long two periods of almosts, mason finslly scored first in the third! thst scoring momentum fid continue, though! just... for the other team...

the ducks did succumb to the bruins, but my z-baby got a penalty! so that's a plus! he slashed marchand and he didn't even get licked! (dear brad, if you're reading this, please lick my fiancé on october 26)

i'm sorry, boys, that you're on a three game lose streak, but i can feel it in my SOUL that you're going to cease that trend soon! use the power of friendship, my dear quackies!

i love you, always, trevy💜 pls do a trick soon! and you looked really cute smiling and watching shatty's video on the bench! prepare for kisses

p.s. dear mom/shatty, I HAVE MISSED YOU SO MUCH! SEEING YOUR VIDEO MONTAGE TRIBUTE ON THE SCOREBOARD HAD ME TEARING UP! I LOVE YOU! DON'T DIE! (@/shattdeuces)

tagged trevorzegras

view all 217 comments

trevorzegras am i cute? or am i god like? what's the scale here? is there a graphic organizer? (i love you, forever, my sweet girl💜)

yourusername the graphic organizer is my internal feelings and there's never a rhyme or reason for any decision i make <3

jackhughes @/yourusername so just like how you make every other decision?

yourusername @/jackhughes i could smack you, there's rhyme and reason for that decision

trevorzegras @/jackhughes she's going to set you on fire

jackhughes @/trevorzegras she failed the first time and she will fail again

_alexturcotte @/jackhughes why would you bring up senior year? people can read that

jackhughes @_alexturcotte the people need to know she's insane!

trevorzegras @/jackhughes USED* to be insane

_alexturcotte @/jackhughes don't act all innocent!we didn't call you two the twins of terror for nothing

yourusername @/jackhughes lexi sold you OUT HA

user52 z in this game has me acting up🥵

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras what's your record streak this season? is it 5, like me?

trevorzegras @_quinnhughes in my defense, one of my penalties was me serving a too many men

yourusername @/trevorzegras and then you hooked hakanpää

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras you did do that

trevorzegras i came out to have a good time and i’m honestly feeling so attacked right now

yourusername @/trevorzegras mwah!

shattdeuces i love and have missed you, too, daughter! p.s. your post-game goody bag made the other guys very jealous!

yourusername i hope you didn't share anything!

shattdeuces i would never betray you like that

yourusername i appreciate your never ending loyalty <3 where are we on the whole "marchand licking z" thing?

shattdeuces i am not asking him that

yourusername ... accidentally show him my post then

trevorzegras @/shattdeuces please no

yourusername @/trevorzegras just bite him in return

_quinnhughes i’d pay to see that

trevorzegras @/shattdeuces SEND HELP

shattdeuces @/trevorzegras i laughed and he asked what i was laughing at. it's in his hands now.

yourusername @/trevorzegras he lick, you bite, i smooch

trevorzegras @/yourusername that smooch better just be for me

yourusername @/trevorzegras my smooches are only for you

user45 trevor nudging terry to look at the video board before going back to smiling like a fool at it makes me so emo🥹😭 give him shatty back!

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras you're not in the negatives yet! that's an accomplishment!

yourusername so true!! he's thriving!

trevorzegras i’m growing up so fast!

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername remember when he was our son? now he's the father of your future children

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's now crying under my shirt

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i’m on my way

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale she's requesting blankets so we can build a fort

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras i'm on my way home to get blankets

user9 slash that rat! he deserves it!

user14 the seventh pic shows the face of a man who knows damn well his teammate started a scrum over him

jackhughes you're so obsessed with him

yourusername he's my baby daddy for a reason

trevorzegras @/jackhughes i've been obsessed since the day i saw her

jackhughes @/trevorzegras we know

yourusername and i was obsessed with my rat the day i saw trevor

trevorzegras @/yourusername we know.

colecaufield @/trevorzegras ooo a period! there are some big feelings in those two words

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras this is taking me back to the good ol' days when you'd come into the room screaming over matthew! so cute!

trevorzegras is it attack trevor day?!

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras it's always attack trevor day

yourusername @/trevorzegras i love you! always!

trevorzegras @/yourusername mhmm i love you, forever

user76 three game loss streak? a z penalty? roughing penalties? that's ducks hockey, baby!

masonmctavish23 did i just get a backhanded compliment?

yourusername no?

masonmctavish23 am i being gaslighted?

yourusername gaslighting? that's a big word, kiddo, did one of your little friends teach you that?

masonmctavish23 my friends are your friends and your fiancé!

yourusername well they definitely didn't teach you that

trevorzegras @/yourusername HEY

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername HEY

yourusername @/trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale hi?

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes were we just going to let the "trip to mount olympus" comment slide?

_quinnhughes @/lhughes_06 i’ve given up

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 i threw up in the comfort of your bathroom in peace and moved on

yourusername @/lhughes_06 @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes you guys do know how i got pregnant, right?

trevorzegras @/yourusername i think i need a refresher course

lhughes_06 @/trevorzegras STOP IT

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kisses4lao · 7 months

Note

omg hear me out…kung lao x kitsune!reader where the reader like seduces him and they sleep together

Okay so I ended up doing some research for this bc I'm actually very into demonology and mythology and I found out that at certain ages kitsune can read minds???? Guys. The creative juices are flowing.

Also when I first read this I thought you meant seduction as in a succubus kind but I couldn't find ANYTHING on kitsune being able to do that cries so it'll be a semi normal romance

Tw/cw: certain parts may be mythologically incorrect for the sake of the plot, deal with it or don't I don't fucking care, AFAB reader, as always kung lao is horny, ooc kung lao, VIRGIN KUNG LAO GUYS, piv, readers a fucking tease, cursing

Not proofread fuck you

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

It all started when he decided to go to Madame Bos with Raiden for the first time in a while.

You were a new server, just starting out as they were one of your very first tables. Kung Lao just couldn't help but notice your cute little ears; how they'd twitch at any sudden sound, and your adorable tails. He was obsessed with it all on first sight!

He'd talked to Raiden about you any time he could, he was so in love with how cute you were! It really wasn't his fault, or at least, that's what he decided to think when his work started to become sloppy because all he could think about was you.

He'd began to make special trips to Madame Bos just to see you. He'd specifically come when he knew there wouldn't be many people just so he could talk to you. The more and more he found out about you, the more in love he fell.

He started bringing you bouquets of flowers and boxes of chocolate, which you'd usually share with him. He really relished every interaction you guys had and he ended up feeling bad about having dirty thoughts involving you.

He'd tell himself over and over that it wasn't his fault, it was yours! You were obviously seducing him! It got so out of hand he ended up reading a book(insane, I know) about kitsune and couldn't find anything on them being able to seduce humans.

This made him feel even more awful, now knowing that it was his own fault for having such perverted thoughts about you.

He felt horrible about how often he'd fuck his fist to the thought of you, hoping that one day you'd do it for him. He'd be blushing so hard seeing you afterwards, having such crazy thoughts while talking to you. Wondering what you'd sound like if he was able to touch you, wanting you to know how badly he needed you, but he has to keep it to himself for your sake.

If he would've read that book on kitsune for just a minute longer, he'd know that kitsune are able to read minds. But then again, if he did know that, he'd be too embarrassed to ever see you again. You knew everything that was going through his mind since the first time you met and you'd be lying if you said you didn't love the attention.

You'd end up teasing him just to get him going, seeing the look on his face when you'd brush against him suggestively was all you needed to do to hear his thoughts start to race.

However, on the other hand, you'd be lying if you said you didn't reciprocate his feelings. You were doing this for yourself too, wanting to see how long it takes for him to finally ask you out.

After a few weeks of the most unbearable mutual pining ever endured with multiple friends of Kung Laos being witnesses, he finally asked you out.

He decided to take you on a picnic in the sun, making a small basket filled with fruits sourced from his farm. Or at least, that was the plan. Unfortunately for the both of you, it had started raining as soon as you got to the clearing you planned to have the picnic at.

Kung Lao had apologized so many times that the word 'sorry' didn't sound like a word anymore. You settled on going back to your own cottage, setting up a soft blanket and setting your fireplace ablaze. You decided to have your picnic in front of the fireplace, the crackling sound of the wood burning and the soft rain hitting the roof made a perfect ambiance.

After a while of talking about random things, you decided to just out right tell him everything. "You know I can read minds, right? I could read yours ever since we first met."

The silence in the room was deafening. Kung Lao had stopped chewing on his strawberry just to stare at you in disbelief. You could tell all he was thinking about was... Nothing. Blank. Not a thought behind those eyes.

He turned away and he sighed, swallowing his strawberry before talking. "I'm.. sorry. Truly, I am. I just.. never felt like this with anyone before. I guess my feelings got the best of me. If you want me to leave, I will, but I promise I'll make it up to you, if you let me stay of course." You chuckle lightly at the last sentence, rubbing your hand on his arm while doing so.

"You're cute. Why do you think I agreed to a date? I feel the same way, silly." You give him a soft smile and kiss him on the cheek, resting your head on his shoulder.

You could feel him heat up, hear his mouth become dry by the seconds. "You.. feel the same? I- why didn't you tell me before? I would've taken you out so much earlier."

"I know, I just wanted you to ask me out. And here we are."

"So, you wanted me to ask you out first, that way you didn't have to be the first one to confess, even though you knew I liked you beforehand?"

"Well when you put it like that it sounds bad."

You both share a small laugh at each others expense, finding it silly how this could've been avoided if either one of you fessed up sooner. The laugh ended and you both looked at each other, making eye contact as you began to lean into him. Glancing down at his lips briefly, you connected them with yours in a gentle kiss. Kung Lao wasted no time reciprocating it, deepening it as his hands rested on your waist.

You softly bit his lower lip, being careful not to draw blood as he let out a groan of both pain and pleasure, giving you access to explore his mouth. He began to moan into the kiss more, tugging on your shirt as he leaned into you. Placing your hand on the back of his head, you climbed onto him and straddled his lap, having him moan at the sudden movement.

Suddenly, you could feel him leaning away from the kiss. Letting him go, you both caught your breath. "I've never done anything like this before- let alone kissed anybody." He was trying his best to avoid your gaze while still tugging slightly at your clothes. That when you noticed his aching member, right between your thighs, straining the confines of his uniform. How had you not noticed it sooner?

Everything started adding up. How he was moaning into the kiss, how he was tugging at your clothes, the beautiful moan he let out when you straddled him, he was turned on. You could feel yourself get wet at the thought of you being the one making him feel like this, this tall, gorgeous man writhing beneath.. you. You'd be damned if you let up this opportunity.

"I don't exactly have much experience in this department either. How about we learn together?" You tried to make it very clear that you wanted him, as a friend, a partner, a mate, everything. You wanted him. You climbed off his lap, taking off his belt and unzipping his pants slowly waiting for any protest.

You look up at him, his face is completely red, mouth agape and breathing heavily. The way the fire beside you illuminated him made him look ethereal, like you just wanted to make him feel as good as possible simply because of how good he looked. You pull down his boxers, pleasantly surprised at how big he was, much bigger than anyone you had ever seen before. He let out a soft groan at the feeling of his cock being free, before groaning again at the feeling of your lips enveloping his tip.

Your one hand wrapped around the base of his cock, the other hand gripping his thigh for stability. You slowly took your mouth off his tip before making small kitten licks, flattening your tongue to cover his whole tip. The sweet moans he'd let out were enough to keep you going, making you take his whole tip in again before sinking down on him more.

You attempted to fit as much of his cock in your mouth as possible, bobbing your head up and down and swirling your tongue the best you could- pumping what you couldn't fit with your hand. Your saliva started to trickle down his cock, smearing onto his balls and soaking the blanket beneath him. His moans increased in volume as he gripped onto the blanket more than he already was.

He felt himself reaching his climax, being soo overwhelmed that you were actually here, willingly sucking him off. He had gotten off so many times before to the thought of it that now that it was happening he had no control over his urges. His hand wandered to scratch behind your ear, giving you the incentive that he's close. Your hand that was previously on his thigh goes to his balls, stroking them slightly as you could feel him climax in your mouth.

It caught you off guard and you slowly took your mouth off his cock, licking up the mess. "I'm so sorry- I should've warned you where I'm sensitive- I- I didn't know I'm sorry-" you cut him off by kissing him, making him taste his cum on your tongue still. "You're fine, you taste good, too. I'll have to remember that for next time." You give him a wink before grabbing another blanket.

You drape it behind him and use it to pull him closer to you. "Will you please make love to me by this oh-so warm fireplace, oh mighty Kung Lao?" You say with a chuckle. He laughs as he begins to undress you, "when you say it like that, how could I ever resist?"

You share another deep kiss as he undresses the both of you, discarding your clothes as he places your legs on his side. Leaning closer into you, he lines his member up with your hole, looking at you for permission. "Ready?"

"Never more." You both share another smile before he slowly enters you, your arms instinctively tangling around his neck for stability. Your soft tails poking out from beneath came to Kung Laos sides, rubbing against him as he lay atop of you, waiting for you to adjust. He slowly strokes your ears and kisses at your neck as he awaits your response.

When you give him the green light, he raises himself up, grabbing a hold of your waist as he begins pumping in and out of you at a slow pace. The two of you exchanged soft pleas too one another as he began to speed up. The noises of slapping enveloped the room you were in as the both of you held onto each other like your lives depended on it.

Kung Laos pace had increased greatly from when he started , beginning to make you feel dizzy off the pleasure he was giving you. You began to moan out his name as you could feel yourself getting close. He kissed at your neck, leaving small hickeys around your collar bone as he gritted his teeth in pleasure.

"Lao- please-"

"I know hon- you can do it, come for me, please, I need you."

You came with a harsh moan, practically screaming his name as you came down from your high. Kung Lao followed soon after, he was about to pull out before he came, getting ready to before he felt your legs tighten around his waist, trapping him inside you.

"inside. Please." You begged. At this point, Kung Lao would listen to anything you said. Begging him to cum inside you had his heart melting and he did it in an instant. He collapsed next to you, taking in in how warm you are as he wraps his arms around your waist again.

"I should get you something. Like a water maybe, or a washcloth? You may wanna clean your thighs." You smile at his concern.

"Aftercare can wait for the morning. I just want to be with you right now." You say as you look into his eyes. They soften as his mouth curls into a smile, kissing you on the forehead before cuddling into you more. Letting the heat from the fireplace envelope the both of you as you drift into a comfortable sleep.

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

A/n: ooga booga

#mortal kombat smut #mk1 #mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #kung lao x reader #kung lao smut #kung lao mk1 #kung lao mortal kombat #kung lao #kung lao x reader smut #mortal kombat x reader smut #mk smut

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whalesforhands · 7 months

Note

i am an avid believer of pillow princess gojo and needy soft dom geto bc i am a part of the vanilla agenda (yes i know i am very boring). i feel like there’d be a few kinks here n there (maybe bondage? exhibitionism?? they seem like the type to like that) but overall they just wanna feel good with dyf!mc. I CAN IMAGINE THEM GETTING SOFT BUT WANTING MORE YK WHAT I MEAN?? MY MIND GOES BLANK THINKING ABT THAT RAHHH

-omori anon

whatever u want omori anon

more short but soft(ish) headcanons (nsfw)

warnings: fem!reader, this is NSFW, pls go away minors, 18+ only

satosugu

being together with this duo entails a lot of… ventures. not just in taking care of the 4 kids, helping them out with their homework, playing with them, testing out new recipes you saw in a magazine and on television and also just… trying to get back on your feet.

being with satosugu especially, when you finally show more comfort in activities of a more carnal nature, you’re not leaving the bed.

whilst you might think they prefer rough, hot and extremely vigorous bed exercises, they do. but when it comes to you, especially on your first night, it is insanely toned down. and it will remain that way until you express interest in going harder.

a lot of asking and forewarnings before taking any actions and a lot more of holding back on their end for your sake.

“can i touch you…?”

“i’m going to kiss you here, okay?”

“you sound so pretty… can you do that again for me, darling?”

“don’t squirm too much… ‘m gonna start.”

“ahh— fuck. don’t squeeze like that, i’m not going to last…”

“shit… you’re so gorgeous like that…”

“suck me off, please… wanna feel you…!”

their actions might be held back, but their kisses are not. every one taken from your lips feels like they’re trying to kiss you absolutely silly, until your head is filled with nothing but them.

“mmph…!” your tongues are entangling, the tempting swirl of your appendages moving vigorously as you feel his hand grasp onto yours almost desperately, fingers entwining just as he begins to pull away, a string of saliva connecting your once occupied lips, a gulp of air hastily swallowed by you as the flush of intimacy envelops your being. it isn’t long, not even enough for you to take in another breath before an impatient hand is already tilting your face towards his own, another set of familiar lips connecting your mouths for another restless makeout.

one round each? uhh… how about three?

“please, honey… i need another round, okay?” your thighs are already sore from having to bounce your hips on your own, your front collapsed onto his chest as you start to heave more, hair sticking to your face as exhaustion starts to catch up to you.

“don’t push her too hard if she can’t take it, satoru.”

“ehh? acting nice when you just went twice in a row is too mean to me, suguru…”

“at least i help do the work.”

“but it looks so cute when she’s struggling to do it herself…!”

jug of water right next to the bed because you’ll be here a long time. most of the time, there’s snacks provided too if satoru didn’t already eat them all.

cleanup is immediately done just for you the moment you look like you can’t handle anymore. no such thing as the ejaculate then evacuate here, not when your bare body is lifted in a princess carry to the bath to enjoy a bubble bath, a massage and suguru washing your hair for you as satoru helps brush your teeth.

bonus:

become a little more forward with their wants after your first night together. whether it be a new set of lingerie or cosplay in a wrapped box waiting on the bed, testing the waters by asking if you’re okay with pictures or videos or straight up being a little handsy.

i’m being serious about that last one.

you could be mid-conversation with gojo, telling him about your day as you sit with your back to his chest, his hands slithering their way under your shirt.

“and then shoko brought me to the old sushi place. the one with the mentaiko sauce i liked, but then i found out they didn’t serve any—“

“mhm, mhm.” he’s definitely only half listening when his hands rest on the skin of your stomach, fingers experimentally tracing shapes just below your breasts as you continue to talk, before you feel his hands quite literally start groping your mounds, flicking your nipples inbetween his fingers, squeezing your boobs etc. as you just… wonder if he’s still listening.

(it helps him focus)

#dyf au #satosugu x reader #omori anon

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yongislong · 2 years

Text

intimate moments + dreamies.

wc: IDKKK GAH genre: fluff/domestic/suggestive?/angst???/established relationships nonidol!dreamies/always self-indulgent lol

cw/note: no cws i dont think! count how many mf times i mentioned studying in this LMAO :| v long, i went overboard EEK enojoy!!!

mark... back rubs. he screams back rubs to me idk. like back rubs but also if you're stressed, he gives such good like upper back and shoulder massages like HELLO. the best part is he doesn't even really know he does it. its like those videos of him fixing hyucks posture, it comes so naturally to him. it almost relaxes him too, to just have you sit on a cushion in the floor in between his calves, while he dangles his legs over the sides of your arms and gives you the most earth shattering shoulder rub you've ever had, he finds comfort in your comfort and lets out all his stresses on your back as well lol. reserved for quiet moments, like usually when you're on the floor studying and he senses you both need a break or you're both watching a movie on the couch and he sets a pillow on the floor and you're already in position bc you've gone through the motions so many times lol. but sometimes he'll just rub your shoulders or neck while you're both just... shopping, cooking, walking, or while mark is waiting for his turn to play while watching chenle shoot a basketball with yangyang. v soft and nice, ur posture and shoulders feel better than ever (even ur lower back like he will dig his knuckles into any place on your back its insane)

renjun... online shopping next to each other. ITS SO... ok hear me out. he's a material girl, therefore converting you into a material girl... its just nice like, using a bit of your hard earned money on nice things is just... nice! you'll sit next to each-other and put on y'all's favorite comfort cartoon and go to town on buying makeup, skincare, a bed for your shared bunny, sweaters, you name it. its like the modern day instances you see in movies where the married couple reads before they go to bed TT. every once in a while he'll start poking your upper thigh asking questions and showing you cute things he finds or maybe you mentioned a problem you had with your skin or something and he's showing you some skincare/makeup products he found that might work for you or just clothes he thinks will look good on you. its cute when you both share a computer as well and just browse together. makes for quality time and helps both of you guys gauge each-others tastes and def helps when planning gift ideas. its funny though how much he would shift positions though LMAO like one second he has his legs straight up in the air resting on the headboard with his phone over his face and next thing you know he's in fetal position or grabbing your ankles to pull your lower half over his thighs to prop his laptop up on your legs haha

jeno... crocheting. LIKE THINK ABOUT IT, this tall, lean man who's 40% veins and 60% just pure muscle LOVES to sit down and make little hats for you and your shared cats and its... like its insane. neither of you guys knew how to do it until you saw videos of people on tiktok making hats and little accessories for their pets, and it inspired you. the next time you go grocery shopping with jen, you sneak away to the craft section and snatch a crochet starter kit. when you bring it back to the cart, he looks at you a little questioningly but you give him a smile and he ruffles your hair and demands you to promise to teach him. now you have a box tucked under your bed filled with small hats you and jeno have made your cats the hats he's made you are in your closet hehe. you do this at least once every two weeks. you sit down and come to a consensus about what to make and you both begin rummaging through the different colored yarn. when jeno's hands get too tired, he's pulling you to lay in between his legs by grabbing the sides of your hips. he doesn't mind sitting in silence but... if you're there... he's so talkative. so much to the point where sometimes you have to stop because he's making you laugh or react so much that your hands are shaking a ton and you keep messing up which only makes you guys laugh even harder TT, picturing him laughing so much he tucks his head into your neck to muffle his sounds or wrapping his arms around your waist tighter every time you tell a good joke... gah

haechan... watching your show. not a show that you're in just a show you share LOL but to me... intimate moments with haechan are a lot more personal and emotional? idk why i think of him that way after you guys have a long talk or even sit in silence for a while and come to a mutual understanding that u both need movie time, the best way to end the night and stop the tears is watching both of ya'll's favorite show. it could be something that came out years ago or something you both wait to air every friday BUT it's just nice! it could also be a movie, but just washing away the bad day, or even ending a good day on a better note, it's a moment where nothing else matters. on his bed, with the biggest white comforter he could find, like 17 plushies, turning the lights off but having the room be lit by the golden hour lamp he has as well as any scattering lava lamps or light up trinkets he has like the heart shaped fairy lights you got him, 3-5 strawberry cake scented candles lit and its just UGHHHH. both of you are both fresh and showered with dewy faces from your skincare, hair and bangs being held up by matching bear headbands he bought. OHH and the show HAS to match the season. scoobydoo mystery incorporated to celebrate october 1st... uhm YEAH! anyways you share his laptop which is covered in stickers he had made of you and his friends or just like random stuff, his wallpaper is you, his profile picture for hbo max is you and his password is your name/his nickname for you as he snakes his arms over you, he lays his head on your chest and drapes one leg over your waist like a koala

jaemin... late night convenience store visits. jaemin seems like a night person! he lives such a quiet life to people that don't know him very well, just walking around being gorgeous and smiling softly to everyone. until he meets you and he feels like he can be himself and is encouraged to by someone other than the dreamies. sure he has the other neos but not everyone knows him like you and jeno do. as friends, you would notice him on social media late at night while you were scrolling as a break from studying. constantly posting aesthetic night pictures of him and his views at the park or random, weird looking snack he sees on his private snapchat story. now, he has you to go with! moments like this are used as breaks from studying or just 2 am cravings for pizza bites. you both talk about nothing or everything in these moments. he has an entire folder dedicated to pictures of you in his phone and almost 80% are in the 7/11 across the street. OHH and one time you went to japan on a study abroad together and he lost his mind because the late night stores there are so good and omg he freaked out about everything and about how pretty you looked under the lights, etc. best two months of his LIFE. now he posts pictures of you in his private story instead. the dreamies lose their minds every time he posts bc oh my gosh, he used to go alone and they were all so worried about him but little did they know he just loves to look around and stuff or sometimes he would just go in hopes that he would catch you bc the store is in the middle of both of yalls apartments and NOWW he has you!!!! and they adore you as well and you bring out the best in jae. ugh :")

chenle...getting ready together. every moment with you, to him, is intimate. but he loves seeing you evolve from the moment you wake up puffy and sleepy, to picking out your outfit, and doing your hair or makeup if you wear it and he loves see you in your element. its such a personal thing to get ready together because, its something that was once done alone, until you found each other and moved in together. playing an any winehouse vinyl and having the crackling noises and music be muffled by his high-pitched laughter when he tries to style your hair and does an awful job or when he tries to help you brush up your eyebrows and makes them into a weird shape like!!!! and oh my god he laughs so loud you would think he was watching the funniest stand up routine in the world like jesus TT you have to remind him through laughs and a hand to his mouth that you do in-fact live in a complex with other people lol. but in all seriousness you are letting him into your personal bubble!!! and aren't even mad/awkward with him because he's touching you like this!!! you trust him this much, especially considering he knows how much you value alone time and personal space or just... even letting anyone see you in your rawest form. ofc he's honored to help you get ready and aids in picking out your outfit for lecture or work if you actually wear the outfit he gets so smug and flirty but he's practically bright red. and vice versa!! he likes propping you up on the bathroom sink and letting you help him trim his brows, put pomade in his hair, put on his moisturizer while he cages your figure by putting his hands on the granite next to your thighs, which encourages you to link your ankles behind his back. TOOTHPASTE KISSES... need i say more!?

jisung... watching him dance. I KNOW OK, basic but i mean come on, he's incredible and its a big part of him yet he's kinda blissfully unaware but also cocky in a way where he will do some insane combo or move and everyone starts freaking out and he's just stops mid dance and looks around like o_0 and is so confused as to why... like he's just... he didn't think it was that big of a deal LMAO. but he started to have so much more assurance in himself especially once he starts inviting you to the studio with him. he begs you to come, it usually doesn't take much persuasion but you were mid task or studying lol and you're like... babe can i finish... and NO RESPONSE he just smirks and shuts your laptop and goes over to you and drapes you over his shoulder or police style drags you out of the room by caging you in with his long ass arms while dragging you out the door. when in the studio its kind of a toss up of what genre he does but he tends to always allocate a certain genre to a certain feeling that plagued him that week. if he's had a hard week, it gets a million times better once he see your eyes full of adoration though the mirror and he stops mid dance giggling and runs over to you and hides his faces in your criss-crossed lap babygirl agenda BUTT if he's had a good week or something positive happened, he LOVES to drag you to the mirror and show you what he's learning. whether you're bad or you dance as often as him, he's always enamored. on more chill days though you justdance battle it out on the giant flat screen tv tucked away in the corner. he reaches over to the nobs on the wall and the music is so loud, but not loud enough to muffle the laughter and thuds of both of you guys falling to the floor from cackling so hard yes his dance teacher is mad lol

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munariplans · 1 year

Note

hey! idk if you’re taking requests but this is kind of a suggestion bc i don’t have a plot or anything but you’re a good writer and i think you’d kill it with a single mom!reader x mean ceo/lawyer!nat i think the whole class difference and maternity would be nice to see nat learning how to navigate them.

-🎈

hi 🎈 anon!

thank you for the request / suggestion, wrote a shorter fic with this one but hopefully it lives up to expectations! sorry for the longer wait, i was away on holiday for a while and didn't have access to tumblr on my laptop.

hope you're doing well!

lena | n. romanoff

ceo! natasha romanoff x single mother! reader word count: 3.2k

‘Where are you? Everyone else is here already.’

‘Did you get stuck in traffic? Even Bill’s wife, the third one, who’s coming from a flight from Washington’s arrived. Reply me.’

‘Are you ignoring me?’

By the third undelivered text, Natasha had had enough. She quietly excused herself from the group of investors she had been speaking to, set her drink down, and headed to the balcony to call you. There was anger, a sense of betrayal even, and if she dared herself feel it, a twinge of worry for you standing her up, as well.

But she swallowed all those thoughts down, as the phone began to ring. It was connected, and rang once, twice, before the dial tone went dead and her call abruptly ended. She stared back at the dark screen of her phone, confusion written on her features, and sighed frustratedly. This was an important fundraising gala. This was where the company was finally going to accomplish the funds needed to build the new headquarters outside of the United States, and this was where she had wanted to show you off to the world.

You were her arm candy, her prize, but tonight…tonight you were missing from her arms.

Natasha struggled to force herself to endure the rest of the night without you by her side. All she had wanted to do was to come find you, to make sure that you were okay to berate you for standing her up, but instead she had to sit through another round of ribbon cuttings, expensive, tasteless champagnes, and meaningless small talk with the ultra wealthy just to rub shoulders even more. It was torture, and nothing could quell the worry anger in the back of her mind.

So when the clock finally struck eleven and the festivities had relatively died down, she was the first to leave the venue; ordering her chauffeur to drive straight to your apartment. The trip was silent, and even the elderly man could sense the tension radiating from his boss’ shoulders at that moment.

Bursting through your doors exactly half an hour later, Natasha saw the abandoned party gown she had picked out for you laid across your stained couch, along with the new heels she had bought still in the designer box she had bought them from, and she knew you never even bothered to actually come for the gala.

She screamed for your name, knocking down the doors to each room in the tiny apartment, making a mess with each step, but she didn’t care at that point. She was livid, and you had betrayed her.

But right before she could knock down the door to the final room, the one painted baby pink and with an engraved sign reading Lena’s Room, it had clicked open and you walked out, staring at her face-to-face while shutting the door behind you.

Natasha was breathing heavily, her fists curled. She was confident she looked almost insane by then; a complete switch from the composed, sophisticated CEO she was just nearly an hour before. But you looked her up and down, and showed no signs of fear, however. You simply sighed, and nodded back towards the room.

“She’s got an unrelenting fever. Been at it since midday, the sitter told me. When I got home, her forehead’s sizzling to the touch. I just got her to bed, Natasha.”

“You didn’t come for the gala.”

“How could I?” It was your turn to fold your arms, walking past her to the living room. She followed. “Lena was so sick, Nat. I couldn’t just leave her alone for the night.”

It was then that things took a turn for the worse. What you said ticked something in Natasha, something she simply could not let go for the remainder of the night as the two of you began arguing.

“You humiliated me! In front of everyone!” Natasha had yelled, hands outstretched and veins appearing on her neck, “I was the only one without a date there, the only one!”

“What was I supposed to do?” You retorted, “My phone was dead, and forgive me if I managed to miss out on it once, because I was busy taking care of my sick child!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you could’ve texted me!”

“It still wouldn’t have changed things!”

Natasha had moved two steps from the kitchen counter to the sofa, where you were seated, still in your nurse scrubs and hair tied in a bun. You looked absolutely exhausted, and the tone in your voice was well over the point of wanting to go on with the argument. Natasha knew the bags under your eyes had not only come from the numerous shifts at the hospital, but also the responsibility of taking care of a toddler all alone as well.

But she had gone too far now. She couldn’t back down. “You stood me up! You stood me up when you could’ve sent her to a friend, or called the sitter back to take care of her for just a few hours more, couldn’t you? Or did you never want to come to the gala to support me anyway?”

She saw you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. “Natasha…”

“Fuck, I bet the kid’s not even sick. She probably just wanted attention, and you so kindly spoil her with everything, of course she can manipulate you for this too!”

But at that point, small sniffles could be heard from the corner of the room, and the both of you looked up at the same time. Your daughter had apparently climbed out of bed, still hugging her stuffed animal, and at the sight of her staring up at the two of you, tears flowing down her face, Natasha felt a surge of guilt wash over what she had just said. Though she knew Lena probably could not grasp all of the words she had been saying, to see you immediately stand and scoop her up in your arms to get her away from Natasha was hurtful enough.

“Mama fight? With Aunty Nat?” Had been her exact words, to which you pressed your hand against her forehead and shushed her quietly to coax her back to sleep.

“No, sweetheart. We’re fine, Mama and Aunty Nat are fine. Let’s go back to bed, okay? Your fever’s still high.”

But Lena peeked through your arms to see Natasha, then up to your face, and Natasha caught her rubbing something from your face too. “Why Mama cry?”

Oh. That had done it. Natasha knew she was fucked, and she had hurt both you and your daughter with the way she had stormed in tonight and began accusing the both of you things that were never true. All because she was too headstrong to listen to anyone’s reasons but her own, all because she was too insecure and possessive over you.

“Darling,” Natasha began, but you stopped her, hand begging her not to follow the both of you to Lena’s room.

“Please, Natasha, just leave,” you said through broken sobs, readjusting Lena to hide your face from Natasha. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning, but please…leave.”

The slam of the front door just seconds later was enough indication to show off the redhead’s frustration and anger, but you were not sure if it was directed at you, or herself.

–

Two weeks later Natasha still received an invite to a play your daughter was in, handed to her by her secretary in the middle of a lunch meeting. She secretly opened it in front of her partners, and the sense of relief and joy that spread through her had her instantly itching to call you on the phone.

“Thanks, baby, for the invitation,” she said later on, while you were on a break of your own. She could hear the roaring ambulance sirens in the background, and knew you were on a time limit. “And I’m really sorry, still, for that night.”

“It’s fine, Nat,” you reassured her, voice tired as usual. It broke Natasha’s heart to always see you working harder than anyone and receiving so little in return, but as you had always reminded her, even at the beginning of your relationship, that you were never looking for help or money from her, and that you refused to accept such as well. “Lena said she misses you as well. She wants you to be there.”

It was hard for Natasha to imagine a child could have such feelings for her. She had never grown up with the love and affection of someone so much younger, someone who looked up to her almost like an idol, and whenever Lena leaned in for kisses or ran up to her for hugs, Natasha knew you always caught her stiffening; an involuntary reflex she hoped you would forgive her for.

But it had been almost two years since you and Natasha had been going out, and even the billionaire knew that you were not going to wait forever for someone who was not going to love Lena as much as you did.

So she swallowed her fears, and replied, “That’s nice. Tell her…I miss her too.”

She could feel you smiling from the other end. “Will do. I love you, Nat.”

“I love you too.”

–

The night of the play, with the both of you sat huddled in the dimly lit school theatre and watching Lena dance around as a sunflower with a group of other little flowers and animals, Natasha watched as your eyes lit up each time the spotlight came on your daughter, and how you would excitedly hold her hand and point Lena out to her throughout the duration of the show. She also watched as Lena continuously looked out at the crowd for the both of you, and how her eyes, reflected in yours, lit up the same way yours did when she found the two of you too. The woman couldn’t help but give a small wave as well whenever Lena grinned at her.

“Mama! Aunty Nat!” Lena screamed at the end of the play, running over to the both of you as you picked her up and peppered kisses all over her face. The little girl basked in the love and laughter from her mother.

“You were amazing, sweetheart. The best there is,” you said to her, still holding her tight, as Natasha allowed herself to sneak a kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Mama is so proud of you.”

Then Lena turned to Natasha, and grinned at her. “And Aunty Nat too?”

Natasha caught your eyes, and smiled reassuringly. “Of course. Aunty Nat is more proud than your Mama, even!”

–

When you finally tucked her in that night, Lena’s eyes full of the world and the stars in the sky, you pressed a final kiss to her forehead, and muttered a I love you before leaving her room. Natasha was in the living room, watching the news on your old, jacked up television, bottle of expensive wine in hand.

“Anything good?” You settled beside her, her arms instinctively reaching out to wrap around you.

She shrugged. “It’s the news. How’s Lena?”

“Still buzzing from the night earlier, but who can blame her? You really went all out with the pizza and ice cream after the play, she’s the happiest she’s been in weeks. Especially since…”

Especially since the apartment had its electricity cut off for a full day earlier in the week, because you couldn't pay the bills on time. Natasha stiffened. “...You know, you should always tell me, if these kind of things happen again.”

“I can get by on my own, Nat. I don’t want your charity, remember?” You sighed, signalling the end of the conversation before it spiralled into another argument.

In an attempt to smooth over the tension, Natasha offered, “We should go on a vacation soon.”

But all you responded with was a mirthless chuckle. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Why?”

“Natasha, I can’t just go on a vacation,” you chimed, “I’ve got shifts at the hospital, bills to pay, and Lena’s far too young to travel any time soon.”

The woman in front of you furrowed her brows. “Who said Lena’s coming?”

You had to do a double take to ensure you heard her right. “Why wouldn’t Lena be coming?”

“I just thought, since she’s with her father on some weekends, we could let her stay there for a little longer. A week, two weeks, perhaps? Just some alone time, you know, you and me. Could help us get away from the stress and troubles of work for a while.”

Natasha felt you stiffen, before your touch was abruptly pulled away from her. “Natasha, where is all this coming from?!”

“Come on, you can’t tell me that you’re not stressed.”

“I am, but Lena is not the source of it!” You retorted, standing up. Natasha had gone into a protective pose too by then. “I can’t just leave her at her dad’s whenever it’s convenient. You and I know what kind of person he is!”

“But baby–”

“–I’m not leaving Lena and that’s final!” You half-screamed, not caring if the neighbours could hear, or if you were hurting Natasha’s feelings by then. “Nat, she is and will always be my top priority, and if you can’t handle that, if you can’t handle sharing a top spot in my heart with her…I can’t be with you.”

There was silence, lasting for a minute or two, as you breathed in heavy gulps of air, while Natasha sat, fiddling with the clasp of her watch, thinking of what to say, or do.

So you continued, “You can’t use money to figure your way out of this one, Nat. To make your problems…just disappear. Not with this.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?” Natasha looked at you then, eyes tearing up too.

Your heart squeezed in part longing, part regret, but you had to stand strong. You had to put your family first. “Yes. So please, I need you to make a decision, because I can’t keep going on like this. And it’s not fair for you to stay in this relationship if it's just for me, and not Lena, too.”

You caught the woman before you shaking her head, letting her tears fall onto her lap, refusing to wipe them away. But as soon as the moment of vulnerability appeared, it went away just as fast, as Natasha abruptly stood, brushing past you, made her way to the door and slammed it on her way out.

Lena did not need to hear your cries of anguish and betrayal that night, sobbed into the pillows you and Natasha so often shared the past two years, all gone by then.

–

Sat by the park bench the two of you used to frequent, Natasha allowed her tears to flow once more; an indication of her grief of the past two years, an indication of the life she had just thrown away. Perhaps it would also have been an indication of the loss of the best thing that could ever happen to her after all.

A child was playing with his mother at the swings nearby, looking no older than Lena was. Their laughter the only thing audible through the ringing in Natasha’s ears. She watched her pick him up, carry him around to the other playground equipment, and her smile and eyes reminded Natasha of you.

You, who always assured Natasha that she was doing right by Lena, that she was good at being a mother too. You, who patiently taught her how to prepare food for Lena, how to put on her socks and tie her braids that she so very much loved, even how to deal with the temper tantrums that stressed her out, but never you. You, who made Natasha believe she deserved to be happy as a mother, too.

Natasha thought of all the times you would come home after your shifts to not only take care of Lena, but also make time for her, too. How you would sacrifice your own time and energy to try to balance the two of them and their needs; and Natasha cringed. It should never have to be between them, she shouldn’t have had to make you choose. And she shouldn’t have been so selfish, should have made compromises, as you have, when being the girlfriend of a billionaire CEO with a schedule as jam packed as hers.

She wonders if she’s fucked it all up. She wonders if she’s too late. There was only one way to find out.

–

“Can we get ice cream, Mama?” Lena’s big, curious eyes always made your heart soft, and gave you a hard time denying her.

You brushed back a strand of her hair, and nodded. “Of course darling, anything for you.”

Though, as the both of you arrived at the usual ice cream shop that you, her, and Natasha frequented, you found yourself cursing as you checked the contents of your wallet, clearly forgetting that payday was still in a week. Lena was already eagerly eyeing the flavours, and you knew her usual order was a premium.

“Hey, Lena, sweetheart,” you called out to her, “Mama’s a little short on cash today. We’ll just have your ice-cream, yeah? I’m not hungry.”

Your daughter pouted, but in return, you gave her your most upbeat smile, and readjusted the straps on her backpack. “Just this once. And I’ll ask them to give you an extra big scoop, so you can eat for the both of us!”

But her gaze was somewhere behind, and before you could follow it, Lena was already pointing to a person behind you, screaming, “Aunty Nat!”

You caught Natasha’s gaze through the shop windows, and there she was, big bouquet of flowers in hand, dressed in the blouse Lena had picked for her when you went shopping once, and sporting the most uncertain grin on her face.

You scooped Lena up protectively, preventing her from running straight to Natasha, but Natasha had only come forward, keeping a distance safe enough for you, but close enough for you to hear what she had to say.

“I’m sorry,” she started, moving one of her thumbs to reveal a smaller bouquet of flowers behind the large ones, in Lena’s favourite sunflowers, “I fucked everything up.”

You nodded, but did not say anything.

“I realise it now, even though I’ve always known, but…I’m here, baby. For the long run, for the long haul, for everything. With both you, and Lena. I cannot imagine a life without either of you, and I’m very sorry for having made you choose between us in the past. If you give me a chance, just one last chance, I will show you how sorry I am, and I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”

Lena was reaching out for the sunflowers, and sighing, you allowed her to. Setting her down, she ran towards Natasha and the woman instinctively picked her up, peppering kisses on her face like you so often did. In response, you took the bigger bouquet, and gave her a soft smile.

“So you’re not leaving us, Nat?”

Natasha shook her head furiously, pressing a kiss to your cheek too. “Never. Sorry, again, for making you think otherwise.”

“I’ll try harder, I’ll make more time for the both of you,” she assured, “Tell me how I can make things up to you, my love.”

You pecked her on the lips, still feeling the passion and love even after weeks of separation. “You can start by buying Lena and I ice cream for today. Let’s go.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #angst with a happy ending #angst with fluff

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generic-anime-boy-bracket · 10 months

Text

Round 2, Group A: Matchup 2

Shigeo Kageyama (Mob) vs Ren Amamiya

Reasons for being generic + Propaganda below

Mob/Shigeo Kageyama

Reasons:

Shigeo’s whole thing is being the most average boring middle schooler ever. He yearns desperately for a social life but he’s always been part of the crowd, so much so that his classmates and even his boss call him “Mob”. Also consider this post https://www.tumblr.com/codynaomiswire/190630281009/spot-the-main-character-amazing-mob-psycho-is?source=share

https://64.media.tumblr.com/15122b75c98b6a5978d892e284f5fe60/1c80e81d36417001-2f/s1280x1920/195aa0ce13b4bbea7fab38e3f930c250940fa9a2.jpg could someone who's never seen this anime pick him out as the main character

very plain face, and his hair is a simple black bowlcut. his design is intentionally as simple and generic as possible, mob appearing plain and unremarkable is a big part of his character.

The whole point of his character design is that he looks bland and blends into the background (hence his nickname "Mob"). There are characters with way more exciting designs, even including his brother who at least has Anime Hair™️, meanwhile Mob is just very plain with his bowlcut and monochrome design

a very obvious candidate. black hair, spends the majority of screentime in a school uniform, got his nickname (mob) literally bc of how generic and bland he is. a perfectly common face. no aspirations, no hobbies, no academic achievements, no sport talents. just a guy. regular dude. the only notable thing about him is his immensly powerful psychic abilities but he avoids using them in daily life, doesnt like to show them off and supresses them as well as his emotions

the point of mob's entire character is to be generic and plain. even his nickname "mob" was given to him by others to show that he is just part of the crowd and nothing special.

He's got a bowlcut, a very simply designed face, and usually is only seen in his school uniform.

He is designed to look like the most generic middle school boy with a plain unexpressive face and a bowl cut, and his nickname Mob comes from the fact that he doesn't stick out and everyone sees him as a background character. He spends most of his time going to school (he is bad at math) and reading manga and daydreaming/zoning out. He's socially awkward and gets nervous around girls. He started working out recently. He also has psychic powers but it's not a big deal it's just another trait someone can have like being charismatic or smelling bad

look at him. his literal entire point is that he is just some guy. his name (mob) was given to him because hes so bland and doesnt stand out that hes part of the mob / a background character in everyones life. it's also, in japanese, the equivalent to the english term "john doe."

Hair is a black bowl cut. Wears a school uniform, plain face. His whole thing is basically being completely average except for his insane psychic powers. He suppresses his emotions and powers because he just wants to live a normal life like everyone else.

bowl cut. standard school uniform. literally designed to look like a generic background character

classic bowlcut kid, literally designed to look generic and blend in

He's literally just a schoolboy with a black bowlcut and no distinguishing features. Look at he: https://mob-psycho-100.fandom.com/wiki/Shigeo_Kageyama?file=Mob+Fullbody.png Ofc, he's also an OP psychic, but he looks so entirely generic I think he fits perfectly

look at him. He checks every “how to look as generic as possible” box

Normal kid (appearance wise)

He is meant to look generic, he is this very powerful esper but he has black hair, a bowl haircut and mostly dresses in his school uniform. He looks like a background character even though he is the protagonist.

Propaganda:

i love him so much he's like a son to me

(this person submitted an reddit img link so it automatically set to one)

i love mob so much he is my boi

…but also, if it helps, mob's character is "boy with bowlcut, almost always seen wearing standard japanese middle school uniform, who speaks in a monotone voice and has no strong opinions of his own (for reasons but its not important)"

He's literally earned the nickname Mob for being so bland and generic looking (Mob being a term Japanese programers use for background NPCs). He also was purposefully designed by the creator to be as un-protagonist looking and plain as possible.

he is literally just some guy and that is the point of the entire show is that hes not special hes just a guy. this is a good thing :)

he has my exact autism :)

Look doesn't he seem like a very polite young man? With no distinguishing features whatsoever? Yeah. He's THE generic anime boy. Immense psychic power notwithstanding

He <3

Ren Amamiya

Reasons:

He's got messy black hair and simple clothes. He's also got fake glasses in order to look less supsicious and blend in. His personality is also fairly bland bc he's a player character

He’s a Japanese teenager with messy black hair and glasses. He literally only wears his school uniform or grayscale. I’ve never seen an MC look so much like I could’ve put his model at another desk in the background and noticed nothing.

Fairly normal high school kid who happens to get caught up in the fate of humanity and stuff. He did get in a minor altercation with a fascist politician before the game starts, which kicks off the entire plot.

When he’s a high school student he just looks like. a fucking guy. I’ll be honest I haven’t played persona I’m just in love with him so if any actual persona fans find this bracket and submit him I bet they’ll have something better lmao - smashy bros fan

messy black hair with bangs. designed to appear basic and unassuming, especially when he is in school and doing other normal high schooler activities (rather than when he’s in the meta verse as Joker). wears fake glasses to seem even more generic and unassuming

He's got messy brown hair and is the only character of the main cast of teens to wear his uniform in the most proper and normal way. He is just A Guy. That's his whole thing, is to look generic and to not stand out.

he's got that slightly messy black hair swag grey eyes average tall-ish height normal outfits normal uniform swag. the most interesting thing he has going on appearance wise is normal ass black rimmed glasses. i wish we could put pictures so i could show you how normal looking he is.

To be fair this is more of a stretch! But he still has the black scruffy hair, and also he has glasses, boy looks generic. But that's actually kinda the point! He's supposed to "fit in" and all that!

i hate this man he is everywhere i havent played the game but hes a mostly silent protagonist with like a possible harem and i want him wiped from this earth. unfortunately theyve announced yet another p5 spin-off. god save us.

Propaganda:

He's already the hair down and then he purposefully dresses more generic in order to blend in how fun is that?

His whole schtick is hiding in plain sight and never letting anyone see his true self. He was traumatized by the Japanese legal system when he put himself out there to save a woman from assault, and so now he does everything he can to blend in. He doesn’t even need glasses; he wears them to be more generic and unassuming. He slouches for the same reason, to minimize his height and come off as another disaffected teenager.

his generic anime guy-ness actually matters to the plot. he was falsely accused of assaulting someone and has been branded a dangerous criminal, so he tries to make himself as unnoticeable/unassuming/generic as he can, hiding his true self in order to avoid further trouble from people that already assume the worst of him. it is a shackle society placed on him, and working in the meta verse as joker allows him to be his true self

he is sooo special to me and very pretty. it's a good generic design that doesn't just look like an npc. extremely ordinary but not boring nor bland. cutie pie.

Already gave it but, it'd be funny for both Akechi and Joker to end up tied cause they both look pretty generic

#generic anime boy bracket #shigeo kageyama #mp100 #mob psycho 100 #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #p5 joker #persona 5

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