#but I love answering questions about them so much thought

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell (9)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, pining

a/n: Thank you so much for sticking around. I had to reread this entire series to write this part and it made me remember how much I love sharing it with you all ♡ Italics indicate memories (oooooo👀).

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

One of the many downsides to losing your memory was your lack of card game knowledge. An inconsequential tidbit when you took a step back and evaluated the hardships that plagued you, but a fact that was currently causing you a massive headache and a massive loss, all the same. 

“This is just completely unfair,” you huffed, tossing your cards on the table and leaning back in your chair. “I can barely even remember what you said the rules were.” 

“Hardly my fault, sweetheart. I gave you a run down before we started,” Cassian slyly grinned. 

You scoffed. “There were over fifteen steps to this game! And I feel like you made up half of them!” 

“While that would definitely be something he’d pull,” Mor piped in, an accusatory glance in Cassian’s direction. “He’s innocent, this time. This is just a really complicated game.” 

“Oh yeah, great. Make the amnesiac play the complicated game so she’ll lose. That's really classy, Cassian. Great sportsmanship.” 

Cassian had the gall to look offended, a hand placed at his heart. “You used to be great at this game, I’ll have you know. You won every time. We banned you, actually.” 

“You banned me from playing a card game?” 

Azriel, who had been fighting off a laugh with his tongue against his cheek, spoke up from beside you. “Very strictly banned, as well. For the last hundred years. You’re lucky we’re letting you play now.” 

Your mouth dropped open in the most wounded expression you could manage, mirth dancing in your eyes as you turned your head to catch the shadowsinger’s blush-tinted cheeks. 

Things were… good between the two of you. The same, but good, mostly because you had refrained from even alluding to his mate. When you didn’t talk about her, or look at anything that might have belonged to her, or question Azriel on the sadness in his eyes, he stayed glued to your side. It was a wonderful friendship the two of you were cultivating—one built on one-sided secrets where the answers were locked in your brain. 

“What could I have possibly done to get banned from a card game for a hundred years?” you gaped.

Azriel’s wings rustled behind him, unfurling to cloak your back in warmth. He laughed. “You cheat.” 

“I cheat?” 

“I wouldn’t call it cheating, exactly,” Mor defended, sliding her cards face-down on the table in favor of the snack plate in the center. “Not when it’s not your fault.” 

“Bullshit!” Cassian exclaimed, fist coming down in a loud bang. “She knows how to control her magic. She chooses to use it during the game and that makes it cheating.” 

Mor pointed an accusing finger in Azriel’s direction. “And what about his shadows, then? You’ve never had a problem with him playing, oh great game warden.” 

Cassian narrowed his eyes as if looking at Azriel for the first time. “Brother, you cheat as well?” 

In the most jovial tone you’d heard Azriel take, he refuted, “I absolutely do not.” 

That had spiraled into another argument you were not part of, and you took the opportunity to pick your cards back up and attempt to run through the rules again. It was a game of chance, really, but it was also a game of wit and that wasn’t your strongest suit at the moment. 

Maybe if you tried a little bit harder—

“Okay, your turn, y/n,” Azirel called you out of your fruitless thoughts. “Just try to pick one.” 

Your lips twisted to the side as you examined your cards and looked up at your opponent. Cassian appeared quite average, no shifting eyes or telling sighs. He was very good at this game, allegedly. 

You flicked your eyes back down to your cards, but, no—something didn’t feel right about that. 

You looked back up at Cassian, and something shifted. 

Something… seemed off. Like he was—

“You’re lying,” you stated as if it were a well-known fact. “You’re lying so hard right now. So that means I should take this and…” 

Your last words trailed off as you slapped a pair of cards on the table. You looked up to Cassian with a smug expression, the general narrowing his eyes and swiping his own cards aside. He scoffed, and then scoffed again, the second time paired with his arms across his chest. 

“Yeah? And how would you know?” he challenged. 

Your head jutted back in disbelief. You gazed around the table but none of your opponents offered the same look. “Are you kidding? It’s practically pouring off of you.” 

“What is?” Azriel softly asked. 

“His lie!” you exclaimed, hands raised in shock. 

“How so?” Mor posed. 

“All around him.” You shook your hand in the direction of the General, making some form of a circle. “He’s just a terrible liar and you can see it. I thought you all said he was undefeated?” 

“I was,” Cassian huffed out with a laugh. “Against everyone other than you.” 

His words sobered up your competitive mood, the rest of the table having come to a conclusion you only just realized. Azriel sat beside you with bated breath, tenseness apparent in the coil of his wings and shadows. Mor tried and failed to hide her smile behind her lips. Cassian didn’t even attempt to hide; his smile was vibrant without a hint of defeat. 

“Does this mean—” 

“Yes!” Mor gave a small cheer. “Something is happening in that beautiful brain of yours and you’re coming back to us!”

Coming back to them. 

As if you weren’t sitting right there. 

“We should ask her questions,” Cassian boomed with another laugh. “See what else is in there.” 

“Oh! We should. Think of something, Cass.” 

“What about…” 

The air around you felt suffocating as those at the table began talking as if you weren’t there. Any joy you felt at the revelation was washed, evaporated—creating a somber resolve that made your skin feel dull. 

“Maybe ask her things associated with her magic. Maybe that’s coming through first,” Mor offered. Walnut shells and wine glasses lay empty and scattered beside discarded cards. 

“I don’t think—” Azriel’s response was muted by a buzzing in your ears. 

It would never be enough. You were a full person sitting before them, but you weren’t. You weren’t the person they expected—not the person they wanted. You had been stuck in this limbo for weeks now, living under pitying eyes and hopeful half-smiles that never met their eyes. Secrets were kept because they hoped you—the real you—would eventually return and save them from sharing the hard things. 

You blinked away the dryness in your eyes. 

“We should get Rhys. He might find an opening now that her magic is—” 

“I’m right here,” you interrupted, the gravel of your tone barely audible below Cassian’s excited tone. The table fell silent, anyway. “I don’t know why you all insist on speaking about me and not to me.” 

Mor’s voice was still light as she replied, “Y/n, we don’t mean—” 

“You don’t mean what?” you laughed, the sound bordering hysterical. You caught Azriel turning his head down towards you in your peripheral. You ignored it. “You don’t mean to make me feel like half a person? Like a ghost? Because I’m right here and I have been for weeks but you all are so concerned with what I’m going to be in some undetermined amount of time that you seem to forget I’m alive now.” 

Cassian’s lips parted to speak, but words continued to spill from your mouth. “I mean, I wasn’t even allowed to know about most of my life until recently. You all expect me to get better instantly, making decisions and keeping secrets as if this isn’t part of my life—as if when I get my memories back… if I get them back… all these weeks will just disappear.

“But I’ve been here,” you stressed. Your fingers were tingling and your neck felt hot. “I’ve been here and all of you—you all talk over my head. I finally get some semblance of myself back and all you can think about is what more I can do. You don’t care about me. You care about some version of me that I’ve never met.” 

You rose from the table, hands coming down harshly as you stood. Mor quickly mimicked your action, but you held a hand up, dismissing the person who had been your safe space at the start of this mess—at the start of your memory, really. 

“I need—I need,” you choked. Dim colors and minute vibrations emanated from each person in the room, making your head hurt as you looked at them. You didn’t have the capacity to analyze that development. “I need to be alone.” 

You heard yourself mutter an apology as you went, unsure what exactly it was for. Your feet stumbled out of the room, getting stuck in cracks and shuffling on marble flooring. A small prickle of embarrassment made you flinch as you went, but it was nothing compared to the harrowing emptiness that guided you out to the balcony. 

Maybe it would be better if you spent your time alone—at least until you got your memories back. You loved being around everyone, but even that was a half-truth. You hadn’t even met everyone that was supposed to be in your life.

Gripping the railing of the balcony, you sucked in a deep breath, greedy for any kind of reprieve. A soft wind met the heat of your cheeks, but it did little to soothe you. If you could just become who they wanted you to be… if you could just know everything they wanted you to know. 

Everything felt like too much. 

You had so little to go off of, but somehow that was to your detriment. 

You thought the first sign of your old self would have been a cause for celebration, but instead, it was only a call for more. More, more, more—you weren’t enough now. 

You heard your name in the wind, a soft sound that carried delicately past your ears. For reasons you could not place, the single word sent anger pulsing in your veins. 

You whipped around, unsurprised to see Azriel standing beneath the archway to the house, his expression unguarded and his shadows reaching and reaching and reaching towards you. 

He seemed to recoil at your furious gaze. 

“What?” you asked, still breathless from the way panic had taken control of your chest. “What, Azriel?” 

But words seemed to fail him as he stood there. He blinked more than necessary, shaking his head and then righting it, unsure of the direction he wanted to take. 

It infuriated you. 

“What could you have to say?” you instigated, and the harsh words made you sick. “You of all people treat me as a stranger. You say we’re close—that we are the closest of anyone—but you keep secrets, Azriel. You keep secrets and you make it impossible to get to know you. What happens if I never get my memory back, huh?”

The notion of that reality set the Shadowsinger into motion. “Don’t say that,” he almost begged, desperation lost behind gritted teeth. “We are still looking—” 

“Would it be that terrible for you? Truly, Azriel. You slink around me, afraid to share things I don’t even know are there! How am I—What am I supposed to do if this is just me now?” You tugged at your hair as frustration captured your voice. You hadn’t meant to say any of this, hadn’t planned on even hinting at your displeasure, but something snapped today. 

Something snapped and there was nothing you could do to cope with the breakage. Because you were a stranger to everyone—most of all yourself. 

“That won’t happen,” Azriel attempted to reassure, taking small steps towards your pacing figure. “We are going to figure this out and everything will be—” 

“It won’t!” 

You screamed. 

You hadn’t meant to. 

Azriel stopped in his tracks. 

“It won’t be fine, Azriel.” Back to a normal volume, your voice sounded hoarse. “I can’t keep living like this—like a ghost. It’s been weeks and there are no leads. All I have now is this hint of my powers that I’m not even sure how to parse out. They don’t make sense. None of this makes sense.” 

Your eyes were glued to your feet as Azriel’s words broke at the syllables. “I know.” 

“None of you will want me if I can’t be her.” 

“I will always want you,” he was quick to respond. 

When you raised your head, the stray tears held captive by your waterline fell. Azriel stared back at you in earnest but it felt incomplete. 

“You keep things from me still,” you said, words thick in your throat. “It’s like you’re waiting for her—for someone else. With Mor and them, it’s different. It feels different with you.”

Azriel whispered a broken rendition of your name. The color you saw reflecting from his shoulders was sharp against the backdrop of the dark house, and you had no idea its significance, but something within you told you it wasn’t going to get you what you so desperately wanted. 

“Stop,” you begged, chin wobbling. “Stop… formulating what you’re going to say to me. This is worse, now that I have my magic. I see your every indecision around me.” 

Azriel’s expression pinched and the color fizzled out as he stepped forward and held your face in his textured hands. Your anger dissipated as he titled your head up to meet his gaze, replaced by the uncertainty that often mingled with regret when he was near. 

What you were regretting, you didn’t know. 

“You are the one sure thing in my life,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel this way—that we all have. I—I have been keeping something from you. I’ve been afraid it would be too much, that I would lose you if you knew. But I’m only losing you now.” 

You gave no reply, unblinking, short breaths escaping you. 

Azriel licked his lips and slid his hands down until his thumbs rested along your jaw. 

“You have asked about my mate.” Discomfort panged within your chest as he spoke, but you needed to hear this. Azriel closed his eyes for a pause, brows furrowed, before he met your eye once more. “It’s you.” 

Your shock came second to the blinding pain creeping up your neck. It fought with you, edging closer and closer to your brain before it fell behind your eyes and shattered all comprehensible thought. Another beat and hazel eyes were lost to darkness. 

You heard your name, felt your body go slack and arms brace your fall, but then there was laughing. You were laughing, but the sound wasn’t coming from your body. 

“We have to go back,” you heard yourself admonish in a breathless tone. “They’re all waiting for us.” 

“Let me be alone with my wife for a while longer.” 

Figures materialized in the dark space of your mind.

A purple dress. 

A ring around your finger. 

Flowers woven into the lapel of a jacket. 

“I have only been your wife for about….” you saw yourself gaze up to the ceiling of a room you did not recognize in feigned contemplation. “An hour?” 

Azriel bit back a grin and nuzzled his face into your neck. “But you have been my mate for my entire life.” 

“That’s not even true. It snapped a few months ago.”

You stood in the corner of the room as the scene unfolded, feeling like a stranger in some iteration of your life. You looked so at ease, wrapped up in the man who had caused you so much inner turmoil over the last few weeks. 

He had said you were mates. 

Was this…

“That’s not how mates work, my love,” Azriel hummed closing the distance between the skin of your cheek and his lips. “When we were created, we were created for each other. There has never been a time in my life that I did not belong to you.” 

You watched yourself smile—watched yourself curl your fingers in your mate’s hair and press your forehead to his. “Gods, you’re the biggest sap.” 

Azriel laughed. The sound was light and free and everything you had sought after these past few weeks. But you heard it here as he laid with you in his arms. 

“I can’t believe you married me,” he whispered, his nose brushing yours. 

“Of course I married you.” 

A pause. 

“Do you think you would have married me if things hadn’t worked out—after Day I mean.” 

From the corner of the room, you analyzed how your body seemed to recoil at the question. 

“Azriel, nothing could have kept me from you. Not even that monster from Day. If I hadn’t gotten my memory back—if I had to live with forgetting you—” Azriel shuddered, taking a long breath through his nose. You only brushed your fingers softly against his temple. “—I would have found you again. It probably would have been a pain in the ass to get me to listen but…” 

Azriel scoffed and pulled you closer. “You’re already a pain in my ass.” 

“That was the goal.” 

Another soft round of laughter. 

You felt like an intruder, flinching at the gleam of the ring on Azriel’s finger, hesitant to gaze around the room you had no recollection of. By the door, you could hear others in the hall. You made out Cassian and Mor’s voices, but others sparked no recognition within you. Curiosity pulled you in that direction, but before you could touch the doorknob, Azriel spoke again. 

“You wouldn’t have had to find me.” He paused. “I never would have left your side.”

And then the scream of your name woke you. 

[eightmakesonebraincell]

the essence of youth is summers with you (teaser)

genre: poly!surfers!ateez x fem!reader, childhood best friend!san, sort of college!au, slice of life and coming of age, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 1.5k (teaser) + approx. 38k (full fic)

c/w: surfer!ateez (deserves a warning), explicit profanity, more angst when you think things will get better, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic

synopsis: when you move away from your hometown at the age of six, you discover that summer in namhae takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands– choi san. but as the summers go past and he goes to seoul for college, bringing back new friends each year, you start to develop feelings that run deeper than just friendship. will your summers of youth become ones of love and dreams, or will they end in pain and heartbreak?

a/n: surprise!! we’re actually using full stops and paragraphs for once! full fic will be released in exactly one week so enjoy these crumbs until then

you’re all sitting on a patchwork of picnic blankets and beach towels spread around the small fire that san has constructed, now experienced from having made one three years in a row. haneul shares the towel with you on one side and yunho on your other.

dinner had been greasy meat grilled by wooyoung’s skilled hands paired with cheap alcohol that made you all wince when it went down. it had been finished off with skewered marshmallows– the most vital part of the night, as mingi had fervently reminded everyone.

someone had then suggested a round of ‘truth or dare’, which most definitely did not stop at one round. the flushed cheeks and tipsy slurs not only made the dares increasingly bizarre, but it made everyone daring enough to actually do them.

but as the night had continued on, the outlandish dares slowly trickled off and more of you picked to answer truth questions. with the mellowing ambience of the campfire and the clearing buzz of alcohol in your systems, it was only a matter of time before the night fizzled into calm.

“mingi,” haneul directs her question at the taller, “ if you were to date one of us excluding me, who would it be?”

his eyes dart from her to you and then to every single one of his friends.

“i’d date you all,” he shrugs. “but if i had to pick one person, then probably yunho, since he’s been there for me from day one.”

yunho knocks shoulders with him appreciatively whilst joking, “your parents would love to hear that answer.”

you spot san and wooyoung cringing at the thought and you’re reminded of snippets of a conversation about surfing as a distraction and escape from home.

“seonghwa, truth or dare?” mingi asks, moving the game on to the next person.

“truth.”

“if you had to pick between love and friendship, which one would it be?”

seonghwa hums for a while, watching the dancing lick of flames.

“i think it depends on the situation, because in the end, they’re not that much different from each other. in love there is friendship, and in friendship there is love. it’s impossible to say that one is more important than the other.”

there’s a collective boo as he skirts around the question, but you all understand where he’s coming from.

it still doesn’t stop san from retorting, “the whole point is to pick one.”

seonghwa chuckles and downs half a shot to appease the other of his apparent half answer, then tosses the same question at him.

“what about you, then?”

much to his disappointment, san actually has an answer.

“i would probably choose love. i think you’re right in saying you can’t separate love and friendship, but the thing that sets a romantic relationship apart is being in love,” he muses. “it’s hard to find friends you love, but it’s even harder to find a friend you fall in love with, so i would probably hold onto that no matter what.”

a few of you subconsciously nod along, words resonating with yourselves.

haneul nudges you curiously, “what do you think?”

you relax into her side as you slowly formulate a cohesive answer from your thoughts.

“i think i would choose love, too. i’ll admit it’s a much more difficult relationship than friendship and it often requires sacrifices to be made…it can even mean having to let go of somebody completely.”

hongjoong glances at you, guilt pricking at his chest.

“but at the same time,” you continue, “when you love somebody that much, sacrifice becomes something you want to give and are willing to offer to the other person, and you develop a depth of understanding, connection and intimacy strong enough to overcome anything that isn’t always possible with friendship.”

“you and san are both such gross romantics,” haneul pretends to gag.

“yeah, shoot us for it,” you poke her in the side. “wooyoung, truth or dare?”

“since everyone’s picking truth…truth.”

“who’s someone you’re sorry towards or thankful for?”

he whines indignantly, “why are we suddenly getting so personal,” but proceeds to think about his answer seriously.

“if i’m honest, i’m sorry towards everyone. i know there are times i fall short as a friend and make mistakes, but you all always forgive me and embrace my imperfections so graciously. sometimes it makes me wonder if i even deserve you guys.”

there are immediate noises of protest and wooyoung smiles, waving away their words of objection because he knows that he’s wrong. it’s just that knowing doesn’t always stop him from feeling a certain way.

“and of course, what i’m sorry for goes hand in hand with what i’m thankful for. but i’m also especially thankful for y/n,” he reveals.

your body reacts instantly to his unexpected answer, blood rushing towards your cheeks and ears as he looks at you appreciatively.

“i haven’t known you for as long as most of the other boys, but i’ve seen how happy and vibrant they all are whenever they return to seoul or whenever they talk about you. and i can definitely see why, now. you make them happy– you make us happy.”

mingi clears his throat, jumping in to add to the younger’s answer, “when i’m here in namhae with you, with everybody, it feels like home.”

a home that he’s never really had until yunho, san, you, and the rest of the boys came along.

“so thank you for giving me a home here,” mingi looks at you earnestly.

if he were sitting closer, you would reach over and squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“no matter how many years go by, you’ll always have a home here,” you tell him instead.

“and the rest of us?” yunho jokes, lightly slapping your knee where your legs have slowly made their way into his lap over the night.

“you all have a home here,” you amend.

because namhae is not the same without san, and namhae is not the same without the rest of your friends, either.

you continue asking each other questions, even after midnight has long ticked past and haneul has retired back to the beach house for some sleep. nobody wants the night to end, because despite already having been attached to each other’s hips all summer, the time you are spending now around the campfire is different.

life slows down and the nine of you are the only ones to exist along with the stars and the ocean waves.

“you know what we should do?” wooyoung pipes up when you are all quietly watching the fire.

he grins, “we should do that thing where we shout at the ocean.”

“just…straight up scream?” hongjoong frowns.

a smile starts to spread across san’s face as he understands wooyoung’s vision.

“no, like our dreams. regrets. confessions,” san elaborates, making a move to stand and brushing the sand off his shorts.

seonghwa questions, “are we really doing this?” and yet he stands up as well.

“when will we ever get a chance to do this again?”

one by one, you all get up on your feet and wander down the beach closer towards the water. it’s silent, save for the crash of waves, while you eye each other and wait for somebody to start it off.

yunho clears his throat, then yells his next words from the very depths of his chest, “i want to become a famous choreographer!”

there are shared giggles at the striking contrast in volume after hours of low, heartfelt conversation, but it’s enough to fill the rest of you with courage and desire to do the same.

“i want my parents to accept that i won’t be a lawyer like they wanted me to be!” yeosang calls out.

mingi takes a huge breath with his entire body, “i hope i’ll win the lottery one day!”

you all break out into laughter, happiness and vigour running high through your veins. it definitely feels a little silly and a little childish, but is that not the charm of living in the prime years of your youth and spending it with your friends?

reservations now completely thrown to the wind, the boys holler and yell both serious and unserious aspirations with their entire soul, cupping the sides of their mouths with their hands to carry their voices further out across the waters. you watch them with deep affection and tenderness and your eyes suddenly start to well up with the intensity of your emotions.

thank you for showing me what love feels like.

you can continue to love them as friends, and that is already more than you could ever ask for.

taking a deep inhale of the chill of emerging dawn and blinking away the blur in your eyes, you join the boys and yell your heart out to the ocean. your screams blend together into a symphony of dreams and hopes; the swell of the chorus and the pinnacle of the movie.

and even though you’re all half-delirious from the lack of sleep, hair ruffled and mismatched pajamas wrinkled, it feels like anything and everything is possible in this moment.

from here on, it’s the nine of you against the world and whatever it may bring.

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[lilacxquartz]

JJK x READER DRABBLES I Asking them if they would still love you if you were a worm

a collection of reader insert scenarios in which the jjk characters are faced with a strange question.

w.c: each piece is under 600 words

themes: fem!reader, mostly fluff, some nsfw mentions but light, slight plot, silly scenarios, crack

included: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, naoya zenin, choso kamo & also sukuna

mdni • semi nsfw • ao3 link

Satoru Gojo:

“Satoru?” you whined in a questioning tone, suddenly seeming genuinely upset about something out of the blue.

It was bizarre, really. One moment you were both watching reruns of your favourite show, perfectly entangled in each other’s arms and the next, you were using that tone with him.

Was he in trouble?

“Huh?” Satoru warily replied, propping himself up so he could get a better look at you. “What’s wrong, baby?”

He stared at you as your expression seemed deep in thought with a topic he could only pray made sense. He couldn’t tell if it was going to be another strange trending question from the internet or if you were truly upset with something serious this time.

It was always a fifty-fifty chance with you but he loved every bit of it, if he had to be honest.

With a furrowed brow, you mustered up the courage to ask a question, “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”

For a while, Satoru had no idea what to tell you as his eyes involuntarily drifted up to the ceiling in disbelief as he held onto stifled laughter. He seemed to recognise his fatal flaw the longer he didn’t reply to you though, so he finally broke the silence with an escaped snort.

“For real…?” he asked, squeezing your shoulders as he held onto you, checking to see if you were pulling his leg or not.

You folded your arms as you signalled to him that this was in fact a serious question to you, tilting your head back to watch those icy blue eyes gradually widen into a burning panic the longer he put off giving you a real answer.

“Uh, hey, look, listen I’d uh…” Satoru immediately scrambled, knowing that he had to answer you sooner than later, choosing to offer you the best answer he could possibly think of, “I’d buy you the highest quality tank, alright? It’ll have the best soil and rocks and I’ll buy you premium-grade gourmet worm food, yeah?”

You slowly thawed as he continued to spout distressed nonsense into your ears, soon finding yourself slowly relaxing as you melted back into his arms.

Confused but strangely relieved, Satoru let out a deep sigh knowing he passed yet another one of your insane tests, deciding to pull you in as close as possible so you wouldn’t doubt him for even a second longer ever again.

Suguru Geto:

Phasing in and out of sleep, you watched how Suguru cleaned your shared home with nothing but fascination in your stare. Your eyes narrowed as you caught glimpses of him meticulously sweeping dust out of existence, ensuring his home would remain perfectly well manicured for his family to enjoy.

You continued to tune into the waking world as the whirring hum of the vacuum cleaner coursed nearby; your eyes slowly widening as your sights focused onto your phone.

Returning as nothing short of a sweaty mess but ultimately fulfilled, Suguru sat at the foot of the bed while you studied him with a specific question in your mind.

Noticing the focus painted on your face, Suguru knew that this had to be good, “What’s up?”

“Hey, Suguru,” you yawned, “you’d still love me if I was a worm, right?”

He narrowed his eyes as you asked him such a strange thing. Furrowing his brows into something that could resemble annoyance, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose in mock disbelief before finally humouring you.

“Is this one of those trends you’ve seen on tiktok again?”

“Maybe,” you replied as you confirmed his fears, “answer the question?”

“As much as it pains me,” he began as he clenched this jaw, realising that there was no plausible scenario in which this strange idea could ever manifest into reality to begin with, “yes, I would still love you if you were a worm.”

Your face lit up, “Really?”

Suguru ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to further calm himself down and gave you a tight nod instead.

He couldn’t help but exhale a loud sigh as you genuinely seemed thrilled at his answer to your insane question; feeling himself grow tired from both cleaning all morning as well as what it meant to truly be with you.

He loved it secretly even if he was stoic at times.

It was your silly side that drew him in, after all.

Toji Fushiguro:

You walked side by side with Toji on the way to the locks park. In one hand you carried a red fleece blanket while he carried a wicker basket.

He reluctantly agreed to go on a picnic with you during his time off because he knew it would make you happy even if he didn’t quite look forward to sitting on some grass out in the exposed open field.

Upon arriving to the destination and setting up shop though, Toji lasted maybe just under ten minutes before he grew restless and started ripping out chunks of grass in a huff.

“Babe,” he sulked as he tried to get your attention, swatting a fly away from his face, “I’m bored. How long do we have to be here for?”

“You promised you’d tolerate it for at least fifteen minutes,” you sighed, supposing you should have been thankful that he entertained the idea of it at all.

“You keeping track?” he quizzed you, his eyes training onto the basket. “How about we eat then we go? I’ll take you on a nice walk instead.”

You nodded in a resigned manner despite not quite opposing his idea and as you tucked into the packed sandwiches, your gaze settled on a worm writhing between the blades of grass.

Staring at it, you decided to torment him.

“Toji?” you asked.

He hummed in response with his mouth full of bread, making him sound muffled as he replied, “Whath ith ith?”

“You’d still love me if I was a worm, right?” you asked, pointing at the earthworm.

“I already have one of those,” he said as he swallowed his bite, “don’t need another, especially since you wouldn’t be able to do much.”

“I’d be useful,” you defensively replied.

“Yeah?” he asked, staring at you with a strangely fond look in his eyes.

“I’d be your personal little compost worm for your garden,” you proudly announced.

“Garden? You think I can afford a place with a garden?” Toji laughed, tugging your wrist to pull you closer to him.

“…Hypothetically,” you reminded him.

“You are such… a menace sometimes,” he sighed to himself as he reeled you in even closer, “if I tell you what you wanna hear, can we get out of here sooner?”

You nodded, “Yes.”

“Then by all means,” Toji beamed, “hell, I’d even make sure your compost bin looks like a little worm mansion.”

“Good,” you smiled, “it’s what I deserve.”

“God, you and your weird questions,” he sighed as he held you closer, not caring that you were in public, “just keep them to a limit though, I don’t want to go grey before forty. Got it?”

“Got it,” you smiled.

Naoya Zenin:

Sitting from across the dining table sat your stoic and distant husband, Naoya Zenin. Your marriage to him had always been questionable at best, but you didn’t complain too much as long as he kept his promise to provide for you.

On some days, you weren’t too sure how you felt being paraded around as his arranged trophy wife, but surprisingly you both somehow complimented each other quite well.

Initially, he didn’t care for what you had to say at all, finding your words to be pointless. However somewhere down the line, he would allow for you to talk if you truly had to do so, provided that you ceased talking when he told you to.

He wouldn’t admit it to you directly, but he was actually growing quite fond of you as the time passed you both by.

“Naoya?” you asked, swirling a crystal goblet of wine in your hands, raising it to meet with the light.

He set his fork down and leaned his chin over his palms with feigned interest. Just by that tone alone, he could tell it was time for your daily torment of asking useless questions. That was the type of relationship you developed with him; you liked pissing him off with conjured up bullshit while he liked putting you into place in bed later.

“What is it, woman?” he asked, as dehumanising as usual. Maybe one day he’ll call you by your actual name.

“Would you still keep me around if I turned into a worm?” you asked.

“I would not,” Naoya scoffed, his smile widening on accident before falling flat, “you’d be lucky if I didn’t step on you right then and there.”

“Bit mean, don’t you think?” you asked as your head titled off to the side.

Snapping just a little at the ridiculous question, he narrowed his gaze, “What use could I possibly have for a worm?”

“None, I suppose… but it’d still be me,” you gestured dramatically, pulling the wine glass to meet with your lips and taking a sip.

“No, it wouldn’t be you,” he corrected you with a huff, “it would be a worm and I don’t have a use for a worm. I’d step on you and find someone else.”

“So heartless,” you commented, “not even hypothetically?”

Naoya’s expression darkened at your persistence, feeling his patience finally run out. He was already annoyed that you dared to ask such a stupid thing of him. The only reason he even tolerated you to begin with was because you were easy on the eyes and compliant enough—he’d say you were light on the ears but not with this drivel you were subjecting him to.

“And? My point stands,” he replied.

“But-“

“—cease,” he hissed, momentarily losing his composure, “you’re… not turning into a worm. Not even hypothetically, so be quiet.”

You faltered for now as you resigned into hushed submission, thinking about what question to bother with him for tomorrow.

Meanwhile, Naoya sighed at last as this conversation was finally over. He was absolutely going to punish you for making him listen to such garbage; maybe putting that pretty mouth of yours to use in a way that didn’t result in pointless rambling for a change.

It wasn’t like you were using that thing to do anything useful with that thing, anyway.

Choso Kamo:

As you both basked away on a beach during the peak of summer, Choso wasn’t taking the heat too well at all. Not only was he tucked away, clinging onto the shade cast by the parasol but he was also quite literally congealed in what could have been an entire bottle of sunscreen.

He reluctantly tagged along with you for a beach trip because you informed that, to his horror, you'd be lounging around in a public place with just a bikini on. Choso wasn’t possessive by any means he thought (he was wrong), but he didn’t feel quite right for you to do so alone without his protective watch.

As a result, he felt just a little agitated even if he didn’t let it show. Both from the rowdy company that occupied the coast as well as the relentless sun prickling away at his skin.

So when you spotted a worm wriggling around in the sand and he had to witness you fling it back ono the grass with a stick, it seemed that he finally reached his tipping point of what he could handle on such a hot day.

Not quite realising that he was on a descent into madness, you spoke up with a playful tone, “Choso?”

Slowly, he turned his neck around, shuddering at how stiff it sounded. It was as if he was made from stone as his joints swivelled; his eyes settling on you with a questioning hum.

“…Yes?”

“Do you think you’d still love me if I was a worm?” you asked, staring at the sky through your shades.

“A-a worm…?” he asked back, not quite sure if he was hearing you correctly. Maybe he wasn’t and this was his sign that he finally slipped away into madness.

But then you spoke up again, confirming that the question was real, “Yeah, you know, like those long slimy wiggly things.”

“I-I know what a worm is,” he stammered, slowly grounding himself as he listened to you talk. As nonsensical as you were being, he found himself growing calm with the help of your voice.

“That’s good to know,” you snorted, “so… would you?”

Choso sighed softly to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help but stare at you with a strange mix of wonder, love and frustration all at the same time. Was this what being in love was like for everyone else?

In an instant, he forgot about the rest of his worries, choosing to take your question very seriously as your reliable boyfriend.

“Yes, I-I’d love you especially if you were a worm,” he replied with a strong hint of determination, not realising that he had already fumbled his answer with a strange choice of words.

“Especially?” you laughed as you turned over to your side, pulling your sunglasses down to get an even better look at his silly state.

“Oh… Oh! N-no I meant…” he scrambled, his brows furrowing in slight panic, “I would love you no matter what form you took on because I’d know it was you and I love you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you laughed. “I would love you no matter what, too.”

Sukuna:

You remained propped up on Sukuna’s lap as he wrapped a secure hold around your form with his lower set of arms. With the top half of his limbs, he held onto a branch of grapes as the other gently petted you, feeding you with a fond look in his eyes.

It was admittedly a little strange the first time he first talked you into these sorts of sessions, but you supposed that they were pretty nice. Quiet and almost intimate moments where he fed you all sorts of fruits all the while he held onto you as though you were some sort of prized possession.

Neither of you ever talked during these interactions, as this was purely an act of not quite affection, but assuring your devotion to him.

However, your mind remained fixated on something from earlier on in the week and it was starting to conflict with the grapes he wanted to feed you.

Just a few days ago, you heard him trash talk humans to Uraume and call them insects, wondering if he felt that way about you too.

Noticing your torn expression, Sukuna sighed as he pulled the grapes away at last and fed you a look of slight disdain.

“Something’s on your mind, isn’t it?” he observed, tweezing your chin to face him as he studied the way you reacted to him, “Speak.”

“I-it’s fine,” you murmured, trying to ignore the issue.

“Don’t take me for a fool,” Sukuna warned, “your secrecy mocks me.”

Figuring that he wasn’t going to drop the subject unless you told him exactly what it was. you decided to work up the courage to ask the question that had been eating you from the inside.

“Do you see me as an insect?”

Sukuna immediately understood what you must have been referring to and rather than berate you for filling your mind with such useless worries, needing to keep you calm for his desired time with you, he shook his head in response instead.

“I do not, my pretty one,” he replied, letting go of your chin at last, “you’re above that. You’re mine.”

“So… if I turned into a literal worm, I still wouldn’t be an insect to you?” you asked, unsure what point you were trying to make exactly.

“You’re pushing your luck here, brat,” Sukuna replied in a serious tone despite surrendering to an amused smile.

“So I wouldn’t be…?” you asked with some hope.

“Ideally, you wouldn’t become such a disgusting thing to begin with,” he replied in a mock shudder, “but I suppose you would have been the only worm I’d have ever liked.”

Seeming satisfied with his response, you finally relaxed once again and that’s right about when he pressed the fruit to your lips to continue from where you both left off.

[lovebittenbyevans]

In Their Words | One Shot

Summary: When Oscar finally did an podcast interview with you

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x interviewer! Female Reader

Warnings: two cursed words

Author note: I was inspired by watching jay shetty podcast on youtube to write this. Enjoy reading!

My Masterlist

You sat in the chair across from him and moved the microphone toward you. You were nervous to do this but at the same time you were excited. You have been wanting to interview Oscar for a while now since he was always busy.

“We are ready to start.” The producer yelled making sure everyone heard him.

You clear your throat as the camera started rolling. You looked at him with a polite smile. “Oscar Piastri.”

He chuckles a bit. “Y/N.” He was wearing a black hoodie and comfortable blue jeans. He wanted to dress for himself for once and be comfortable.

“Welcome to in their words podcast.” You speak into the microphone.

Oscar leans back slightly in his chair and speaks into the microphone. “Thank you for having me.”

You let out a soft sigh. “Now, there is so much I want to ask but some stuff we can talk about off cameras as well.”

He laughed a bit. “Y/N, you and I have been friends for four years. You know you can ask me anything.” You rolled your eyes and sucked your teeth playfully. “Open book, huh?”

He laughed again. “Go ahead.” You clears your throat as you make eye contact with him. “My first question would be your lifestyle? What made you want to be so free.”

He rubbed his chin for a second before he answered your question. “As you know both my parents are rich and wealthy. I didn’t want a path where I had to be them. I wanted one of my own and just be careful with who I let in my life.”

“So, you wanted to be this sugar daddy for every woman you are with?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew how Oscar moved so well.

He let out a sigh and said. “No, I just like having women around me. Yes, I have money but I’m not stupid enough to let them use me. I truly care about my girlfriend Ruby.” At least he was being honest.

You nodded listening to him. “How long have you and Remi been together?”

Oscar made a thinking face. “On and off for almost a year and a half.”

“And do you feel like you are missing something from her? That’s why you don’t want to be fully committed.” You asked him another question.

He didn’t know how to answer that. He never thought about Ruby being his forever even though he did love her to an extent.

“I think when two people are enjoying each other's company and don't want to ruin their little bubble they have with them. It’s become a custom to it.” He explained the best way he could.

You just listen to him talk through the interview as you ask him more questions about him, his life mostly. You noticed sometimes Oscar only likes attention from people who matter to him.

“Charles, Lando and Lewis are the ones I’m closest to and they always have my back. Even when we see each other at events we have good conversations with each other.” He tells you.

You sit up a bit in your chair. “And I feel like I can come to you about anything as well.” He continues to talk.

“When I’m available.” You joked.

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Did you get what I sent you?”

You gave him a side eye. “I did but you didn’t have to do that.” You were not about to reveal what he gave you on camera. You like to keep things private between you and him.

He looks at you while shaking his head. He knew what kind of person you are even though he always wanted to be here for you.

“Y/N, why don't you let me be–” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence. “I have this card sitting on my lap and I am going to ask you a few questions from people.” You truly don’t want to have this conversation on camera right now.

Oscar opens his mouth, but closes it. “Question one is do you ever see a future of you settling down with Remi?” You glance at the card and then at him.

He chuckles briefly. “Um, that’s a tough answer to give.”

You moved on to the next question. “If you were in a different universe what would your career be?”

“I always say I wanted to be a professor on college campus, tattoo artists or soccer player.” He answered truthfully.

You moved the microphone a bit. “And final question.” Your eyes widened when you saw the next question. You almost gasped. “Um.” You paused for a moment. “Could you see yourself being with Y/N? Would you be willing to explore with her and see if there is a chance?”

You felt your cheeks flush as he locked eyes with you. “My only answer would be a hundred percent yes.” You didn’t expect him to actually answer that so loudly.

“Ok.” You said. “Thanks for coming on my show Oscar.” You had to pull yourself together and be calm.

He smiled warmly. “Thank you so much for having me, Y/N.”

The producer yelled cut as you rose from your chair and walked off set. You walked out the door after thanking the crew for being on set. You headed straight to your car and unlocked the door with your car keys.

You open the door to your car when you hear Oscar call out to you. “Y/N, wait!” His Australian accent was thick.

He grabs your arm, turning you around to face him. “No, No, No.” You spoke first. “Did you not understand what you just did on camera?”

Oscar ran his hand through his hair. “Yes, but I don’t regret saying it.” You glare at him for a second. “O, fucking Remi!? You forgot you have a whole girlfriend and women?”

He rolled his eyes. “I am not taking it back. I meant what I said, Y/N.” Your heart was racing while looking at him.

You never saw him in that way ever. It never crossed your mind for you to be anything more with him.

“Have a good rest of your day, O.” You got inside your car, closing the door shut and immediately drove off.

Oscar stood there watching you drive away instead of talking to you. “Fuck!” He mumbles to himself.

[calxprince]

❀ LOVE, OR THE LACK THEREOF (2)

. . . a kabru x gender neutral reader story

# Chapter 2 : Stupidity is The Key to Happiness. You were Plenty Stupid— Just Not Happy

# genre : multiple parts. breakup angst. reader can't move on for the life of them.

# notes : read chapter 1 here.

4370 words

. . . in which god has just currently decided that you're going to be his strongest soldier today and give you his toughest battles, and you can't do shit about it.

I mean, who else wouldn't freak out after finally seeing their ex again? Especially when you only find him and his party as corpses lying on the cold dungeon floor, lined up like meat in the produce section. All stiff and mildly damp.

FUCK, HE’S STILL SO HANDSOME—no, perhaps even more so now? You feel a bead of sweat form as you bite down on the inside of your cheek, staring at Kabru’s unconscious body sprawled on the cold, concrete floor. He was ominously peaceful, with his eyelids closed and his hair messed up as it pushed against the wall. It dragged your heart by its heartstrings, bringing in strange wave of nostalgia.

You recall the messy sheets, his cheek pressed up against your pillows— the curls in his hair handsomely framing his face.

It was as if a prince had just stumbled into your home and fallen into a deep slumber in your dingy bed.

A familiar warmth crept up on your cheeks, followed by a small smile you couldn’t hold back. However, you took a fist straight to the middle of your chest— leaving you winded as you tried to punch away the looming melancholy feeling creeping up.

You decide to look in a different direction and drive your attention away. If you could withstand not seeing him for years, you can surely do it again this time.

Your eyes scan the rest of the party, and you notice an unfamiliar figure among them. Your hands unwittingly clench down on your staff— the natural grooves of the wood digging into your skin, bound to leave a significant indent into the palms of your hands. The sensation rivaling the gruesome battle in your mind, grieving the person you were before finding out. The mere presence of the stranger left a bitter taste in your mouth, turning a switch in your mind as you fell into a dangerous spiral.

It's just like they say, fuck around and find out.

And you have, in fact— fucked around and found out.

It was like a jagged, serrated dagger twisting around in an old wound; like a thousand needles had just poked you like a bad acupuncture therapy attempt. Your mouth felt dry, and each muscle and bone felt like it held up the weight of the heavens and sky itself. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t even run no matter how much you yearned to do so.

You start to consider showing up at the door of the Touden siblings, begging the sister to exorcise the bad spirit that was probably haunting you— cursing you with horrible luck.

You had spent thousands of nights tangled in the sticky spider web of your fears and doubts. About 1826 nights, to be exact (Maybe? You’re not sure). The thoughts of the future had been eagerly gnawing at your sanity, flooding your worrying mind with questions like:

‘Is he thinking of me right now? Does he even think about me anymore?’

‘Is he living a happier life without me?’

‘Has he replaced me already?’

It was that last question.

That stupid question that haunted your mind at least 5 times a day.

You already knew what the answer would probably be. You were completely and utterly convinced that it would be a breeze to handle if you were to find out and that you had moved on. which was the biggest and most delusional lie you had ever told yourself. But you don’t like to dwell on that thought much.

Being stupid was probably one of the keys to happiness, and you were plenty stupid— just not happy.

But God, no amount of dread and nail-biting anxiety could ever prepare you for the actual answer. The painful reality that just slaps you in the face stabs you at least 30 times in each of your vital organs— and completely shatters every bit of your almost non-existent hope.

It’s quite a reach, especially when the girl is literally lying unconscious on the floor unable to even move a finger. But she might as well have killed you at this point just doing absolutely nothing, with the amount of pain she’s putting you through— purely just due to her existence.

It was as if Thor had just thrown his hammer at you, digging into your toes with little to no hope of escape. No amount of desperate tugging could set you free. Who the hell even is Thor? You question, you shrug it off.

‘Ways to Get Back with Kabru—Idea number 25: Run back and work as their mage again if they still have a vacant spot… I better cross that out later.’

Maybe most questions should be left unanswered, you should’ve turned back 15 minutes ago. You should’ve run back up to the surface and continued to live your life in ignorant bliss. The naïve past seemed much kinder than the truth of the future.

There was a hazy, strange sense of satisfaction that hung over your heart. However, the painful drilling sensation in your stomach seemed to drown it out— the rising feeling of dread and regret filling like a thick liquid in your lungs that you can’t cough out.

With deliberate steps, you approach the unknown body, lowering yourself to kneel beside the new individual. She was beautiful, as much as you hated to admit it. You quickly tugged at your hair, pushing it out of the way of your eyes. Maybe to see better, maybe out of pure insecurity.

Your lips press into a thin line. She had slick, luscious black hair— you even start to consider asking her for her hair care routine after (which was stupid of you to think, so you flick that thought to the back of your mind.) Her sleek figure was complimented by her simple medium-length frayed red dress. Her facial structure made you guess that she came from the east, and her lack of other special features— she’s also a tall man.

You pout, squeezing your eyes tight as you feel the tight rope of jealousy tugging at your neck. Maybe, it would’ve been much easier to skim over the existence of your replacement if she hadn’t been so beautiful. Maybe if her face was full of warts, or maybe if she was a toad that you had picked up from the well in your house— the blow would’ve been less impactful.

Scratch that. The frogs that resided in the well were incredibly cute. But would Kabru know that she turned into a frog? You began to backtrack on that thought, fighting against the itch in your hand to start flipping through your grimoire to find a spell to turn people into frogs.

It had instructions on how to use a dog to harvest a singular mandrake, so why the hell wouldn’t it have a spell on turning people into frogs?

But then, you dwelled on the thought of the curse being able to be lifted by a kiss. The image of Kabru kissing a frog, in a complete fairytale-esque love story scene— it was enough for you to abandon the idea again.

He would be the type to do such a thing, even if he hated every minute of it.

He would probably even eat monsters out of pure righteousness and pushover people-pleaser politeness if someone asked him to—at least just a bite.

…

Maybe you should start putting those fairytale books down or donate them to the local village library, it would fix your problem of outrageous delusions.

So instead of planning your path to evil, you began wishing and praying to whatever god is currently listening to you— if there even is any.

‘Please, please, please. God, or… whoever is out there. I’d even accept it if the Mad Mage is the one tuning in. Please erase this girl from existence.’ You begged, but you felt a pang of guilt crash into your heart. You peek with one eye, staring at her peaceful face once again— You squeeze your eyes shut once more and re-clasped your hands together to reset your prayer. If that even works, it probably doesn’t…

‘Actually, disregard that… That was rude. Kind of. She probably doesn’t deserve it… Just please, don’t have any personal relationship with Kabru.’ You mutter under your breath, feeling a bit of the weight come off your shoulders. It was as if you had shooed away the annoying spirit haunting you with bad luck, or at least you had hoped you did.

Your hands pushed against your bent knees, assisting you as you stood back up. Which drives you into yet another dilemma. With the amount of writing and overthinking you had just done, you had completely forgotten that they were all lying dead on the floor.

You sulk by the wall, feeling the rocky surface leaving indents on your forehead. You curse at the wind. You were not God’s strongest soldier; he should not be giving you the toughest battles. You sigh, whittling down your options into 3.

You walk away from this place and run back to the surface. Possibly seek therapy and hit your head just enough times to forget whatever you had just discovered in this dungeon. Quit dungeon exploring to completely cut off all possibilities of ever encountering Kabru and his party ever again. Get a normal job and live your life in ignorant bliss.

2. You continue onwards but be sure to bless their corpses to ensure their safety until they get retrieved by the corpse revival company— or possibly scammed by that other resurrection company. Or maybe even saved by some other random guy somewhere, who knows? Leave strands of your hair around their wrists and spray your signature scent around them; fully aware that Kuro could sniff you out in mere seconds (which was the plan.) It leaves them knowing you were there but gives them the edge that you didn’t bother to help them, even though they know that you’re fully capable of doing so.

3. Be an idiot, who out of goodwill and righteousness— revives the party and allows you to make yourself known as the unfortunate victim and hero who had stumbled across them. This gives room to analyze and dissect the relationship between the new girl and Kabru, and even a chance to converse and interact with your old party. This may urge Kabru to be aware of your existence if he has already forgotten (you hope not). Make him bow down on his knees, head touching the floor as he begs you to join him and his party again.

And of course, you chose to be an idiot.

You had already made so many bad decisions for fate to put you in this position, so why don’t you push it to its limits? Plus, you had already been doing this whole revival business to earn gold by farming corpses of fallen adventurers within the higher levels. You don’t scam them at least.

You need to think this over first. You can’t revive everyone at once, even if you wish you did at this moment. You tuck your chin in between your index finger and thumb, carefully planning out how you can carry this out with a high success rate and a low rate of embarrassing yourself in front of your ex.

You couldn’t possibly revive Kabru first, since you’d have to swallow down the thick tension that forms in the air while he stares at you reviving the rest of his party. It would leave too much room for conversation (if there was any), and too little room for your swift escape. So, he’s reserved for last place for now.

The new girl… You should sandwich her in the middle. It’s best to revive someone you know first, so they don’t end up freaking out at your random appearance. But you can’t squeeze her right before Kabru, it’ll probably spawn some weird first impressions between the two of you. You’ll put someone else in between him and her, so she can just get the gist that you were just trying to help.

Holm should be first. He’s the calmer one of the party and is a lot closer to you than the rest of the party. It would be a bit weird seeing an old friend that suddenly ran out of your life and having them be the first thing you see after waking up… You have to clear that up with him if Kabru hadn’t already told him about what happened between the two of you. He would also probably help you with reviving, which will help you cut down on the time.

Mickbell will be revived right after, giving you a chance to calm him down before proceeding with the girl— who will probably ostracize you on the spot if he suddenly bursts into tears, or just makes a scene. Kuro… will be right after Mickbell, which will help you in the cause of calming him down.

Daya will be the unfortunate shield? Cushioning? Between Kabru and the girl. You were somewhat close to her, so she would probably understand your cause right away. She’s an innocent soul.

‘If he asks… I’ll just say I do it as a form of work.’ You whisper, kneeling towards Holm. You analyze his body, keeping a sharp eye out for any major injuries. You pick up his arm gently, holding it up in the air before letting it go— It falls limp.

‘He’s out cold…’ Your eyebrows furrow, making eager work of brushing off any bit of dust or debris off him. None of them seemed to have any weak soul bonds or missing limbs.

Your hand meets his chest, lying directly on top of his heart as you begin your ritual. You feel your mana coursing through your veins, like a cold shot of flowing water. Your fingertips felt a gentle tingle, like pins pricking them— enough to poke through the skin but not enough to draw blood.

Warmth spread through his body, feeling your heartbeat synch with his as it began to beat at a steady pace. Holm’s body staggers, as blood rushes through— his muscles moving on their own, just from pure muscle memory. As you felt his body heat return to normal healthy temperatures, your fingers eagerly swiped against his forehead. Your index finger is digging and pressing into the skin between his two eyebrows.

He woke up with a start, eyes wide and chest heaving. If he wasn’t already freaked out by his sudden consciousness, he was even more freaked out by your appearance. His jaw drops, gaze wavering as he looks at you as if you had just come back from the dead (even if he was the one that just did.)

You stare back at him, oblivious and aloof of the internal battles he is currently fighting in his mind. His mouth sputters, eager to voice out his mind— however, it lacks the voice, and the proper mind and muscle articulation.

“Are you okay?” you question, your tone drawn out and unsure. Your mind was currently reeling, as you slowly began to be filled with regret. Would he mind if you just ran away right now? You’re hesitant to engage in conversation with him, fully convinced that he is seconds away from lashing out at you.

”Y/N ? ? “ He shouted, his voice echoing around the entirety of the hollow dungeon floor. He slaps a hand over his mouth, coughing as he regains his composure. A feint pink dusted over his cheeks, embarrassed by his sudden outburst. You flinch slightly, squeezing your eyes for a second so you could brace yourself for whatever he was about to say.

Holm backtracks for a moment, leaning in towards you in a state of curiosity.

“Y/N .. ?” He whispered, questioning your existence. His voice filled with disbelief and wonder, secretly pinching himself as he pondered if this was a dream or not.

“It’s me.” You smile, a sense of warm familiarity filling your heart as you stare back at him. A quick rush of joy and excitement drowning out your worries, as you meet up with your old friend. You spread your arms out slightly, and he takes the opportunity to capture you in a tight embrace. It finally brought back that sense of belongingness as you reconnect together as friends, one that you had forgotten the feeling of.

You have grown accustomed to the fast pace of your life, meeting and seeing faces but never finding them again. Your fear of attachment only grew as a sense of loneliness was chained to your foot like a weight of punishment. You pass by thousands of faces, thousands of people who carry their heavy burdens and stories— Yet, you still live life alone.

“I thought I’d never see you again” He sighed, patting your back as he pulled away. You could read him like an open book, he was a simple person. You could feel a sudden rush of relief flow through him, as his worrying mind cleared within seconds. However, your sudden gleeful moment was interrupted when he suddenly punched you straight in the gut.

“Ack— !” He’s not much of a fighter, so it was weak— since he was mostly kidding. But he did go for a sensitive area, so you hunch over in pain.

“You’re such a dummy you know. You left without a word, and I haven’t seen you in five years. Five years! That’s half a decade!” He grumbled, judgmental as always. You rub the area he punched to soothe the pain, as you laugh dryly. However, his expression softens at the sight of you.

“I know… Hasn’t Kabru told you why?” You tilt your head, fixing up your posture. At this point, you’re on a self-sabotage spree. You should’ve probably kept that question unsaid, knowing that you’re just leading yourself into a whole new world of hurt by finding answers to questions that should be left unanswered.

“No… He only showed us your resignation paper, then never spoke of you ever again.” Holm pouted, rubbing down the back of his neck.

He never told them.

He never spoke of you again.

You were seconds away from curling up, falling to the floor, and dying right then and there. You had to hold back every cell in your body from begging Holm to bring out his undine and put you out of your sad, sad misery.

Your expression remained blank; your lips pursed as you tried to keep yourself from spiraling again. You practice a couple of breathing exercises, digging the nails of your fingers into the palm of your hand. It’s possibly not too late to turn back, Holm could probably handle all the resurrecting.

“Right… How did the rest of the party take it?” Your voice is drawn out, deciding to rip off yet another bandage off the wound. If the party didn’t react nicely to the news, you’d probably get chewed out immediately— just to confirm whether or not you should continue with your plan or run away.

“… Not that well. We basically stopped adventuring for a week straight, since Kabru completely locked himself up ever since then. We all kind of freaked out a bit, though— Kabru seemed to have sucked it up and gathered all of us up again to go mage hunting to complete our party. Mickbell was against replacing you and was somewhat insistent on dragging you back. But Kabru stopped him, he wasn’t mad per se— Just scary looking.”

Okay, you need to stop asking questions that could lead back to Kabru— noted.

“Anyways, what happened to you guys?” You changed the topic, gaze averting towards the huge body of water in the middle of the dungeon. You had noticed that their clothes were slightly damp, but you didn’t necessarily question it.

”As far as I remember, we got attacked by a bunch of violent mermen. Which is weird, given that it isn’t common for them to be near the surface of the water… It’s usually just bladefish.” He mumbled, deep in thought as he stared at the eerily now calm waters.

“Right… Would you be okay with helping me revive everyone? You can take..., the new girl and Kuro. I’ll take on Mickbell, Daya, and… Kabru.” You stared at him with pleading eyes, offering to take on the odd number of corpses— Just so you don’t drain him of his mana too fast since he had just recently come back to life.

“Oh… The new girl. Her name is Rin by the way, she’s a bit blunt and standoffish when it comes to new people. So don’t feel too offended when she criticizes you…” Holm smiles sheepishly, though agreeing to take on your offer. You spring up into a stand immediately, offering a hand towards him— which he eagerly accepts.

You both make your way to your respective assigned corpses— Though the speed at which you both were doing it made you feel more and more dread as time passed. Your mind was blurring together the current happenings, not truly processing the moment.

Mickbell wasted no time in shouting, punching your legs as if any form of violence would undo your long period of absence. You didn’t take any significant notes on what he said, as his actions only translated into an irritated cat that was begging for more food.

However, you ran your fingers through his hair— which ultimately silenced his aggressive yammering. You pat his head gently, just like you always would back then. His expression mellowed out, hugging your leg as he cursed your name in the wind. He doesn’t like being treated like a kid, but he lets you just this once.

He lets go of you (reluctantly), after realizing that everyone else was knocked unconscious. He stands off to the side, stretching out his limbs and doing a quick inventory check— just to steer clear out of your way.

Rin had been revived shortly after Mickbell was, which rendered her completely and utterly confused at your foreign appearance. As well as Mickbell’s sudden affectionate behavior and outburst. She stares back at Holm, slightly bewildered at the sight— the look on her face begging him for any sort of explanation.

Holm only explains your presence briefly, mentioning your closeness and familiar bond with the party. He doesn’t bother explaining your relationship with Kabru, saving you from any sort of random rivalry with her. Rin only hums in response, the gears in her mind turning as she analyzes you from afar.

She played with her hair, twirling it around as she stared. Completely oblivious of your brain-shattering nervousness as you realized she was awake.

You felt the need to flex or one-up her. You wanted to show her your sheer amount of power and give her an excellent first impression.

Was it to impress her? Was it to make her feel envy and Jealousy? You don’t know, probably both.

You’re still not sure about making her a friend or an enemy. So you decide to lean more into the friend category.

However, all thoughts of her quickly dissipated as your gaze met Kabru’s body on the floor. You tense up, realizing that there’s unfortunately no more escape from your demise. You try to cough up the thick sense of nervousness from your throat, as an insatiable itch begins to dance all over the inside of your body.

There was a sick sense of familiarity as you kneeled and placed a hesitant hand onto his chest. You felt a wave of nausea override all of your rational thoughts, as the palm of your hand seemed to fit that one area of his chest like a puzzle piece. Your expression turns soft, while your body stiffens, and you find it difficult to move. It left a sickly bitter taste in your mouth.

Being close to him like this, didn’t fill your heart with the same glee as you had fantasized. Instead, seeing him again made you feel immense amounts of dread— a seething anger igniting a long rope tied to a bomb of anger. As much as you had idolized him throughout the years, finally seeing him again made the coin flip over on the dirty side.

The reality settled in like getting hit by a car, the adrenaline carrying through before you crash. His face only made you feel pure unbridled rage, how dare he live his life and fall into a slumber as peaceful as this— when you spent thousands of sleepless nights all because of him.

You had never wished for a viler amount of karma towards anyone until now.

Your hand pushed down with more force than necessary, forcing out the mana flow as you healed him with pure negative thoughts buzzing around in your head. You felt yourself seeing red, as you felt his heart begin to beat to a steady rhythm.

That same soft and slow beat that would lull you to sleep each night. Once you had even promised him that there was no other music that even the greatest musician could compose— would compare to the sound of his beating heart.

You bite your tongue back from cursing his name out, taking a deep breath to brush off the suddenly blinding anger. ‘I need to give off a good impression.’ You mumble, relaxing your muscles and the scowl on your face.

Your hands hesitate to meet with his forehead, your touch fleeting as you push against the pressure point in his forehead. Your fingertips lightly intercepted with his hair— which made you confused on whether you wanted to run your fingers through it again or bash his face into the ground. Maybe both.

Your hand quickly leaves his face, eyes unwavering of its stare.

Usually, you would kiss his forehead instead of using the pressure point method. You blink away the unwarranted memory, watching as he stirs awake. You remain seated by his side, making sure to be there if ever he has any side effects that would come with his resurrection.

Kabru groans, rubbing his eyes away from sleep. However, he seemed to have woken up immediately as he recognized your scent. His eyes shot open, as his head snapped to turn towards you— which did not fail to scare you. As you suddenly lean backwards, completely flabbergasted by his current expression.

Kabru mumbles your name under his breath.

Oh fuck.

[remedyturtles]

Hi! You totally don’t have to answer this but I was rereading Death Wish again today for like the sixth time and I had a thought.

After everything is said and done and they’ve lived a nice long life together, does Sensei get to see his Donnie again? Does Leo get to meet the family he’s seen so much of in Sensei’s memories?

Sorry if that’s an annoying question. It was just kind of a sad thought I was having.

i'll answer this in kind of a roundabout way -- sensei's story was always meant to be about grief. more specifically to me, it was meant to be a realistic representation of grief. there is ABSOLUTELY a place in the world for the fix-it stories where donnie shows up in a blaze of glory and they are reunited and everything is awesome. that is the ultimate wish fulfillment and i love it.

but i wanted something for those who can't fix it, who have to live with pain and think that they'd give anything just to have them back, just to be reunited, just one more time.

i wanted to write a story that said, this is the worst thing that will ever happen to you, you have to live with this pain and there is no fix-it, but you will live through it anyway.

would they be reunited in death? i have no idea, neither does sensei, so he will just have to live on as there's no way to answer that question.

but i really, really, really hope so.

[buddie911abc]

Let's talk about this moment-the moment before Eddie tells Buck that he has arranged for him to be Chris's guardian. (This is one possible interpretation of what is happening here, and it is how I read the start of the scene. If they make Eddie's coming out canon and depending on how they label the character, I hope we get to see if this interpretation is correct. This is a gay-coded reading of Eddie, one in which he is aware of his sexuality, but is for whatever reason suppressing it.)

At the beginning of the scene, Eddie sits on the edge of the hospital bed, waiting for Buck to come back. It is implied that off camera, Buck is taking care of getting him discharged. It isn't a long shot, so you have to be paying attention to the screen to see it. My interpretation is that Eddie is lost in his thoughts, thinking about what he is going to say to Buck.

I'm reading a lot in this small shot. I think there is some fear in his facial expression, but there is some sadness as well. Eddie knows he is about to confess to something that happened over a year ago. He knows that confessing it is going to bring up more questions. He's preparing himself to try to deflect those questions, but he knows, at this moment, that he might not be able to deflect them. He knows that this one admission may force him to admit his feelings for Buck, and once that bell has been rung, there is no going back. He's about to admit to something that he is afraid will cost him their friendship. Eddie knows he doesn't have to tell Buck about the Will, but if he doesn't, then Buck will continue to be...Buck. He will continue to think of himself as expendable. Eddie would rather risk the friendship than see Buck do something that would take him out of this world. All of these things, I think, have been going through Eddie's head that whole morning, and at the start of the scene, he is lost in those thoughts and has to snap himself back to reality quick when Buck comes back into the room.

Looking at the scene from that perspective makes the rest of the scene so much more emotional to me. And the scene does play out with some of those questions coming up. Buck does ask why it took him a year to tell him about the Will. He does ask why tell him now? I've talked about how Eddie deflected that question in the comment section of various posts I've read, and I still see it the same way. Eddie simply did not answer the whole question. He confessed to why he was telling him the truth (So Buck would know that he isn't expendable) but not to why he did it or why he kept it a secret in the first place. (The fact that Eddie felt he had to hide it points to motives related to something else he is hiding. There really is no good reason for keeping it a secret.) And Buck, the guy who never saw his self-worth, was so distracted by the answer that he did get that he never realized that Eddie didn't answer the rest of the question.

The scene ended with Eddie telling Buck that he was wrong. I can't even imagine how the rest of the conversation went. At first, I thought Eddie got away with this because he deflected by using one of Buck's trigger pressure points, but then I realized this was actually the last episode of season four.

We now know that the creators/writers wanted to begin the process of taking Buddie canon in season four. It didn't work out, but if it had, season five could have started with an entirely different arc that stemmed from the fact that Eddie wasn't able to deflect why he made these choices. If Buck had been faced with the revelation that Eddie had feelings for him, he may have looked closer at his own reaction to Eddie being shot. (I talk a lot about possible interpretations of the show, but the way Buck reacted in that scene will always come across as love to me, and even Eddie in those scenes showed feelings. i.e. reaching his hand toward Buck, asking Buck if he was hurt when he was the one bleeding out.)

So... Thoughts? Anyone?

[dollsque]

❤️‍🔥 ❝ Don’t You See The Way He Looks At You? ❞

❥ Word Count: 1.8k

❥ Short Summary: Peter B. Parker (Earth-616) talks you into confessing to Hobie and reassures you that he loves you back.

❥ Notes: Fluff, Y/N used sparingly, no mention of gender, one-shot, sfw

🏹 ˚₊ · »-♡→ YOU WERE SITTING AT one of the lunch tables in the Spider Society and eating a Miguel O’Hara burger when you heard a familiar laugh in the distance. Your friend, Hobie Brown, was standing further down with his best friends Pavitr and Gwen. Your stare lingered at him, as usual.

You had been itching to confess to him. You guys had been friends ever since you guys joined the Spider Society, which had been a very long time ago. You two were inseparable, and you guys managed to create so much chemistry that anyone would’ve believed that you two were friends even before you joined the Spider Society—if that was possible.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by someone familiar sitting next to you, and that was Peter from Earth-616. He gave you a warm smile in acknowledgment, and Mayday cooed at the sight of you finally noticing them.

“Hello, Mayday,” you smiled, letting her small hand wrap around your finger. “Hey, Peter.”

“Hey. I noticed you were a little out of it. Something happen?” He questioned. He and you both know why you were out of it; he just wanted you to admit it. It was only a matter of time before one of you said something to him, and it would’ve most likely been you instead of Hobie.

“Yes, it’s about Hobie,” you answered to his nonverbal question. Peter could only hum softly in response. He seemed to be pondering about something; possibly the right way to go about this.

“Well,” he began, “what’s stopping you?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m getting old; I’ve seen it all,” Peter chuckled softly with some sort of glint in his eyes.

“You’re just turning 40. You’re middle-aged.”

“Some people consider that old.” Peter shrugged.

“You’re taking that in stride. Usually, people would interpret it as having a ‘midlife crisis’.” You pointed out with a playful smirk.

“I got a loving wife and an adorable baby. I don’t think life could be any better,” Peter smiled proudly as he patted Mayday’s head which earned a giggle out of her. “Back on topic, though. You can’t distract me.”

You sighed and scratched your nail softly against the table’s surface. “I don’t know. I just…can’t.”

“You can’t? Or you’re scared?” Peter questioned, propping his head up with his elbow on the table.

“Both, I suppose.” His silence and the curiosity in his eyes signaled for you to go on.

“He had always called me his best friend, and vice versa. Hell, he even told others that we were merely platonic; that’s all. Why would I risk breaking our bond over something so silly? Why should I confess when I know he doesn’t like me back?” You frowned as you picked up a fry, mindlessly stirring the tip of it around in the poured ketchup on your plate.

“Because you don’t,” Peter answered simply. When you raised an eyebrow at him in confusion and even a bit of surprise, he continued.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you, Y/N?” Peter questioned rhetorically. “I do,” he continued.

“Actions may speak louder than words, but eyes show more than actions. There’s just this love and passion—this fiery passion in his eyes when he looks at you. He looks at you like you’re one of the most precious people in his life. He looks at you like he’d protect you from the world, even though he knows you can fend for yourself. The way he looks at you? That’s love.” He paused, looking at the hope, yet doubt, in your eyes.

“I used to look at M.J. the same way when I fell in love with her. I still do,” he chuckled warmly at the thought, softly combing his little girl’s hair with his fingers. “I would know.”

Hobie looks past Gwen and Pavitr for a second and spots you. He didn't even seem to notice Peter yet and gave you a warm smile with this soft look in his eyes; he even turned pink for a moment with a subtle pink heart that you managed to notice.

It was gone as quickly as it appeared, though.

After you smiled back, he averted his eyes back to his friends.

That small moment between you two was when you finally saw a glimpse of what Peter was talking about.

“You see that?” Peter asked.

You nod.

“Besides that warm, loving smile and the fact that he literally turned a cute shade of pink with a pink, paper, heart floating around him for a split second, you can see the softness in his eyes. The way he looks at you is surreal, and yet you’re so worried about the wrong things that you can’t see the right ones.”

You considered his words, slightly frowning while looking down at the table. Maybe he was right.

“However, he shares the same fear as you. I could see it in his eyes sometimes. He loves you, but he’s scared of the fact he loves you, just like you’re scared of the fact that you love him.” His words caused you to look up at him.

“I’m telling you, kid, you two are just two lovers who are scared of breaking the bond that you so desperately hold onto because you think that it’s all that’s going to be as close to a relationship as it gets, but you guys could be so much more. That boy loves you, and I can tell that you love him back just as much.”

“However, I can’t make you confess to him. The rest is up to you. I’m just an old, 40-year-old, mentor.” He smirked, taking a mischievous sip of his soda.

Peter was right; one of you had to make a move, and it definitely wouldn’t be Peter. It was down to you and Hobie, and you decided that it would be you who would make the move.

🏹 ˚₊ · »-♡→ YOU’RE ALREADY STARTING TO rethink your decisions as you walked side-by-side with your best friend, your arms bumping each other’s every once in a while. You guys talked and talked for a while, and eventually you guys perched yourselves off an empty platform that was higher up and more isolated from other Spider Society members.

You two were sitting in comfortable silence, not talking to each other much and just existing in each other’s proximity as he strung his electric guitar and as you watched all the other Spider-People do their own things or chatter with others below. You slightly gripped the edge, preparing to confess—preparing for the worst.

“Hobie?”

“Hmm?” Your nervous tone caught his attention, and he tilted his head up slightly as he continued looking at the strings he strung.

God, how do you say this without it being so damn obvious? With all the overthinking you did, you would’ve thought you were heavily prepared for this, but apparently not.

“I’m really thankful for you, and thankful that you’ve been my friend for so long—”

“Bloody hell, are you about to go on a suicide mission that Miguel assigned to you or somethin’?”

“What—no!” You replied, feigning a frown and playfully smacking him. “Let me finish, will you?”

“Alright, alright, continue.”

You looked down discreetly and saw Peter looking up at you two with a bright, encouraging smile and two thumbs up. Mayday struggled to mimic his hand gesture, but she got it anyway, and you smiled down at the both of them before you continued.

“As I was saying,” you began, taking a small inhale and exhale. “I really hope this doesn’t ruin things between us, but…”

Now Hobie’s concerned. “Is something wrong?” He interrupted, once again.

“No, no. It’s just—could you please…just…”

“Right, right, sorry.” He nodded as he silently promised to keep his mouth shut until you were finally done speaking.

“We’ve been friends for a while and…”

Hobie’s heart stopped, then started thumping slightly harder.

“…I liked you for a really long time. I was really scared to tell you, because what we had was already great and so…real. I didn’t want to ruin that, and I never would have forgiven myself if I did. But…”

You smiled warmly at the thought of Peter.

“Someone encouraged me, told me that I should make a move; he told me that I shouldn’t be so afraid. So, that’s what I decided to do—tell you how I felt. It feels good to get it off my shoulders no matter what your answer is. I just wanted to let you know.

Hobie looked at you, and you saw shock. However, you saw the very same look Peter told you he saw whenever he looked at you; love. Love, and passion. You could only look at him the same way.

“I’ve waited so long for you to say that,” he began with a breathless, soft laugh. “I waited so long to be able to tell you the same thing.”

He then smirked and nudged you slightly the side of his upper half. “Thank God you said something, because I’m not sure if would’ve been able to. Thank God for the person who convinced you as well. Lord, almighty.”

“Oh, c’mon, we were having a moment,” you snorted at his antics.

“Who was our knight and shining armor, hmmm?” He questioned, still keeping that smirk on his face.

“Peter—”

“Which one?” he interrupted, causing you to give him a playful, deadpanned look.

“What? There’s hundreds of ‘em.” He shrugged.

“The one with a baby. Mayday?”

“Ah, humbling reality Spider-Man?” He questioned with feigned awe.

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed. Hobie laughed along and you two shared a laugh for a while. Hobie found himself scooting closer to you until you guys were touching. He then made a move of his own and placed his hand on top of yours.

“Well,” he began, sighing dramatically, looking off into the distance. He then looked back at you with a sincere, warm smile and the lovesick look in his eyes. He even turned pink again for a split moment, and this time there were more pink, paper, hearts floating around him. You almost wanted to touch one of them to see if they were real paper. They were gone quickly though, but not his expression.

“I like you too. Love you, even.”

You smile warmly back at him.

“I love you too.”

♡♡♡

“See? What’d I tell you?” Peter asked, looking down at Mayday, who’s in her baby carrier, with a proud smile. “Your dad’s multi-talented. He can save the city, be the best mentor, AND be an amazing wingman.”

Mayday laughed and reached her hand up so that he could give her palm a kiss, which he gladly did. “Now, how about we go for another burger? I’m pretty hungry.”

© 2024 dollsque - all rights reserved; do not copy my works, repost my content, edit my works, or translate my works on tumblr or anywhere else. it is strictly forbidden.

[monster-disaster]

[shadow monster] Monster at midnight

male!shadow monster x male!human!Reader Good to know: well, cheating and dubious/non-consensual, but not in a traumatizing way, I guess? mxm, oral

Summary: The new bed your wife got came with something else.

It all begins with your wife's newfound obsession with antique stores and online markets. What starts as a casual interest for her soon turns into a frequent activity for you, with mornings and afternoons spent in parking lots, waiting for strangers and whatever she bought from them through the internet. These transactions are mostly pleasant surprises—garden tools, books, and seasonal decorations that would cost much more in stores. They are harmless things, and you have no issue picking them up just to make your wife happy.

The situation takes a strange turn when she gets another bed. At first, there is nothing wrong with it. It is much bigger than your previous one, giving her and you enough space at night to sleep without kicking each other every few hours. It looks good, and it's comfortable.

So it's fine, right?

However, after a month, things start to feel off. You begin waking up at odd hours with an unsettling feeling of being watched or touched. Sometimes, you wake up drenched in sweat, feeling inexplicably hot and agitated. On other nights, you find yourself waking up aroused, ready to climax at any moment. This last detail you keep to yourself, driven by a strange instinct to remain silent about it.

When you finally bring up your concerns to your wife, she just laughs it off. "I don't know what you are talking about," she says. "I sleep like a baby." You hum in response, uncertain whether it is a good sign or something you should worry about. "Maybe you're overworked," she continues. "You're always so tired when you get back from work." You are tired because you can't sleep at night, but you keep this answer to yourself, partly because your wife's explanation sounds much more rational than the unsettling fantasies that have been plaguing you. Her suggestion that you're simply overworked and exhausted from your job is a comforting alternative to the bizarre thoughts swirling in your mind.

Yet, even with her reassurances, the nights don't get any easier. The feeling of being watched, the burning heat, and the unbidden arousal continue to haunt you. You toss and turn, trying to rationalize these experiences, but they persist stubbornly.

In the quiet, dark hours of the night, your thoughts wander, and you can't shake the growing sense of unease. There's an underlying tension, a feeling that something is not quite right. Despite the logical explanations you try to offer yourself, a part of you wonders if there's more to this new bed than meets the eye. The once-pleasant surprises from your wife's shopping sprees have now taken a turn, leaving you questioning what you've welcomed into your home.

- With an exhale through your chapped lips, you let your head fall back on the pillow, arms tucked beneath it. Your body melts against the mattress as your muscles relax and your eyes close, ready to fall asleep again despite the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

It's nothing, you tell yourself. Your wife is right; it must be stress from work. Maybe you should take some time off. A few days of vacation would do some good for both you and the still-sleeping woman next to you. Go somewhere warm and sunny. No matter how much you love living in Grimbrook, the gloomy town can play tricks on one's mind if they're not careful.

Something nudges your leg, and you scowl into the darkness. Your wife's name rolls off your tongue in a low, barely audible grunt as you pull away from her, but the sensation remains around your calf. The hold reminds you of long, slender fingers with sharp nails grazing your skin. It's warm and heavy, and you have to shake your head to dispel your ridiculous thoughts.

A shiver runs down your spine, and you tell yourself it's just your imagination, fueled by exhaustion and stress. Yet, the feeling lingers, making your heart race. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself, but despite your efforts to rationalize, the sense of unease is undeniable. You glance at your wife sleeping peacefully beside you, and suddenly, a thought crosses your mind; what if your wife is right? And wrong? What if there is really nothing wrong with the bed, but stress has nothing to do with your problems? What if you are going insane?

What if…

But no. There is a hand on your calf, moving up and up until long nails graze the back of your thigh. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you jump as you struggle for what feels like an eternity to turn around and yank the blanket off your body in one frantic motion. The springs creak as your back hits the bed, but the sound is drowned by your pulse pounding in your ears.

And you need several, several seconds to believe your own eyes.

The darkness is thick and almost tangible in the bedroom. A strange, eerie fog rolls across the floor, curling around the furniture and casting shapes and shadows on the walls. They stretch and twist in ways they shouldn't do, and at the end of the bed, a creature kneels, barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness. The monster is lean with a hunched posture. You can see the long, slender fingers tipped with sharp nails, the same ones that grazed your thigh moments ago. Multiple eyes glimmer faintly at you, reflecting what little light there is coming from the window. The monster's skin is so dark that it nearly blends into the blackness, a seamless extension of the night itself.

As your heart races and your breath comes in shallow gasps, you struggle to make sense of the sight. The monster's eyes, too many, seem to pierce through you, seeing into the deepest corners of your soul. You feel paralyzed, unable to move or look away. The weight of its gaze is heavy and oppressive on you.

For a moment, the world narrows to just you and the monster. The bedroom, the house, your sleeping wife next to you, and everything else fades into insignificance. It's as if time itself has stopped, trapping you in this moment. With him.

He is the one who breaks the stillness of the room, placing his large hands on your thighs just above your knees. His grip is strong, and his touch is cold yet surprisingly soothing. Your muscles twitch at the sudden feeling, and you brace yourself on your elbows, wanting to sit up but halting your attempt as you speak hurriedly. "Hey! Hey! Hey!" Your voice is still hoarse from sleep but filled with alertness and panic as you stare at the monster with wide eyes. He looks back at you with a calmness you certainly don't have. The creature’s multiple eyes glint in the dim light, each one reflecting an eerie curiosity. "Who… What are you?" you manage to stammer out. The monster tilts his head when he hears your question, the movement is seemingly innocent and almost graceful as his fingers flex around your legs, sending shivers up your spine.

The silence stretches, heavy and tense, until finally, you hear a sound that seems to resonate in the air and within your very bones.

It's… purring.

It's deep and reverberating. You can’t tear your gaze away from him, a strange mix of fear and fascination holding you captive. The purring grows louder, filling the room with a sound that is both comforting and lulling. The rhythmic vibration somehow keeps you grounded, preventing you from losing your mind entirely.

The fog that had enveloped the room now swirls lazily around the bed, as if it too is under the monster's spell.

But you don't get an answer.

Instead, his grip on you slips up and up and up, and before you can say anything, his hands are under the thin fabric of your loose underwear. Your lips fall open as your breath catches in your throat with a strange, strangled sound that bounces out of your heaving chest. Your first instinct says to grab him, but your body freezes before you can do something stupid. His long, sharp nails graze over your inner thighs, too close to your balls, and there is no way you are ready to risk it with a reckless move. Now, you have to be smart, but damn, your brain stopped functioning several seconds ago.

"Wait! Wait!" You gasp. "You shouldn't… It's not…" No matter how you try, the words don't want to roll off your tongue as you hobble for some coherent thoughts. The tips of his nails wake goosebumps on their way, making your tense muscles tremble at the feeling. While one part of your mind is frozen by panic, the other is intrigued. Despite his looks, the monster doesn't seem dangerous with his big eyes that stare at you with as much curiosity as you watch him.

When you don't say anything else, he moves again, punching a startled groan out of your chest. His long, slender fingers curl around your dick, holding it steadily and firmly. "No!" You wheeze, trying to pull away, but the movement makes him tug on your shaft, and you swear you can see stars for a moment. Your cock twitches, and you can feel your arousal building up in the base of your spine despite the absurdity of the situation.

The creature purrs again. The sound is short and excited as he lets you go only to tug on your underwear before you can catch your breath. Your cock juts out, half hard, while the waistband of your boxer stretches around your thighs and slips down off your legs as you struggle to reach it. The monster does nothing to help you, mostly because his attention is entirely elsewhere. "Look," you inhale. "We shouldn't…" Now that your cock is bobbing under his heavy, intense gaze, there is no way a flimsy fabric you use for sleep can be more interesting for him.

He shuffles forward a little, the bed dips under his weight as he finds his new place between your legs, forcing you to spread them open for him. Your lips open again to say something, but he takes hold of your cock, and again, your mind goes blank. The black monster with several eyes and no words tugs on your cock experimentally, stroking you into full erection as he explores your shaft from base to tip. Your hips buck upward automatically, and you groan at yourself. You shouldn't do this. You shouldn't enjoy this. And yet, when his thumb finds a vein at the underside of your cock, you can't stop the tingling feeling running through your body. His large palm feels warm and velvety as it rubs up and down on your erection. His fingertip ghosts over the edge of the crown of your cock, teasing the sensitive skin under it to the point you can't even breathe to say something. Your lungs burn for air, and your voice is barely audible when a wheeze escapes your lips. One glance at the monster hovering over your cock is enough to know his next step. And while your body aches for it, your mind still trying to hold onto the reality. "Don't!" Without even acting like he hears you, he leans in and licks a tentative path along your shaft, lingering at the tip and teasing the small hole there. His tongue is thick and long, you can feel every movement of the wet muscle on your throbbing cock. Your chest expands with a ragged inhale as you stare at him taking you into his mouth. He is warm and wet, and his long, long tongue wraps around you easily. "Fuck!" Your voice is loud and hoarse in the silence, mixing with the wet, suckling sound of the dark creature around your cock. Adjusting his grip at the base, he takes you deeper until you can feel his throat tightening and working around you.

The sight of the monster's fingers and long, sharp nails so close to your most sensitive area surges adrenaline through your veins while his lips rubbing up and down on your hard shaft softens the sharpness of your survival instincts.

The monster backs away, jerking you off with his hand much more easily now that your cock is soaked by the mix of your pre-cum and his saliva. His fist rubs up and down on you for long seconds while your hips rise and fall as you fuck into his hold, chasing your pleasure. Every rational thought is out of your mind, and you don't even fight for it anymore. Not when he dips his head back, letting his tongue circle on the tip of your cock, sliding lower and lower until you are in his mouth again.

The slurping sounds of his lips are loud as he drools down to your balls, using his free hand to play with them softly, carefully. Your groan is almost painful as your back arches away from the bed from the electric jolt that shoots through your body, making your muscles flex and spasm.

Your oxygen-deprived brain can't even fathom anything outside the thick, curling fog around you and the monster between your legs. Your toes and fingers go numb as they curl, and you grab onto the sheets under you. You tug on the fabric with every wave of pleasure washing over you, making your muscles twitch and turning your bones into liquid. Your shirt sticks to your body like a second skin from the thin layer of sweat covering you. You are all lost and ruined under the sensations. His drool dripping down to your balls is tickling and messy and so fucking good. And his tongue is long and wet, wrapping and massaging your erection all the way from the tip to the base.

It goes like this for a while, you wheeze and writhe while he sucks you deep down to his throat, and when you think you can't go higher, the creature starts to purr. The vibration tightening and fluttering around your cock makes you shout with a release. Before you know it, you spurt your cum into his mouth. He swallows down your load easily, and every gulp sends sparkles over your spine until it almost cracks under the pressure of your orgasm.

By the time your body goes limp, you are dead to the world. Your eyes fall shut when the darkness takes you so you don't see the monster retreating to his hiding place while the thick, rolling mist slowly disappears, leaving you and your wife on the bed as if nothing happened.

The next day, when your wife joins you in the kitchen while the scent of coffee lingers in the early morning air and you are more relaxed than ever before, you say nothing about your midnight visitor. When she asks how did you sleep, you reply with a smile behind the brim of your cup.

[choerypetal]

High Heels / Five Hargreeves

summary: A short story where Five’s soulmate has been hidden from the family since Texas. One day, Klaus's desperate plea to meet them is finally granted in exchange for borrowing their familiar heels.

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors!

enjoy, xo

Among everyone, Five was the least likely to show affection. If he was ever caught doing so, it would be accompanied by a threatening glare, delivered in the kindest way possible. With his siblings constantly by his side, often in an obnoxious manner, Five would need more than just the Handler to keep him in line if necessary.

“So, you’re not going to tell me why I saw random heels in your room last night?” Klaus's desperate voice lingered in Five’s ear as he retrieved his breakfast, leaning in like a helpless puppy. Five could only respond with a sigh. It wasn’t as if he was actively trying to hide you from his family, except to avoid Klaus's incessant questions. “Just own it! I bet whoever chose to be with you would be ashamed to know you had the audacity to hide them from us!” Whatever Klaus in mind that day, was enough to irritate Five further. Proving his point, for him and for you. 

For once, however, Klaus wasn’t entirely wrong. Five had indeed intended to keep you safe, not only from the apocalypse but also from his own father. He couldn’t bear to lose another loved one. Even if it meant having you constantly by his side, he was willing to do it. Fortunately, you didn’t mind being the follower. In fact, you enjoyed it, perhaps a bit too much, and found yourself becoming clingy whenever possible. You never imagined that Five, the grumpy old man himself, would be the more touch-starved one between the two of you.

It was late when you sleepily nuzzled against his neck, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. You remembered how he was that night, with his pouty lips kissing your forehead and his calm demeanor. You were his safe haven, a fact he took his time admitting.

Five knew he wasn’t ready to introduce you to his family, and you knew it well whenever you brought up the subject. His brow would furrow at the thought, and his jaw would clench, imagining Klaus making a fool of himself, Diego casually flirting, Allison asking a bunch of questions, Viktor and Ben being the least supportive, and Luther... well, Luther just being Luther.

He sighed at the thought that same night, resting his head in your hand as you caressed his cheek, his eyelids growing heavier with each touch. “Y/N…” his voice was hoarse, protesting your attempt to go further. He knew exactly what he was doing, but you pouted. “Please. The stories you keep telling me about Ben and Luther! I have so many questions—the moon, and—” He chuckled, cutting you off immediately. “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to get you involved in this mess…” You could hear a hint of sadness in his voice.

“Pleaseeee,” you had begged. That’s when you remembered meeting Klaus one night. How could Five say no after hearing this? So you gave your shot. “You know…” your voice was enough to catch Five’s attention when his eyes gently opened enough to meet your gaze. His ears ready to listen. 

“...I might have already met one of them.” Now it was Five who sat up in bed, his messy hair making him look more adorable than grumpy. Who could you possibly have met? Out of all his siblings, there was no way— “Who?” he asked, waiting impatiently for an answer. Your lips curved into a smirk Five would be glad to erase with a kiss if you didn’t answer quickly. “The one with the long hair? Eccentric as well.”

He knew exactly who you were referring to. “Klaus? Why am I not surprised?” He felt a mix of relief and offense, considering he wanted to wait for the right moment, or at least until everything had calmed down. But of course, it was too good to be true. Noticing his unsatisfied expression, you quickly defended, “He pinky promised me that he wouldn’t say anything about me until you’re ready.”

Five was hesitant. There was a catch, knowing Klaus, it was impossible he didn’t want something in return. “What did he ask for?” he asked nervously. Seeing Five's impatience, you confessed, “To borrow my heels.” Five sighed. “But he looks so good in them!” you objected in Klaus’s defense. Five chuckled, remembering his brother’s words from last week. Your obvious confusion made you raise an eyebrow. “What is it?” you asked, completely oblivious, one of the many things he enjoyed about you.

Five’s lips curved into a knowing grin as he shook his head. Now he had a good reason to finally tease Klaus. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss on your lips. “Nothing, love. You know I love you, right?” he said lovingly. You nodded with a sweet smile, exhaling a soft giggle and nuzzling your head back into his neck. “I do, grumpy old guy.”

[olvxva]

emptiness pt. III / joost klein x reader

part I / part II

warnings: a little bit of cursing, smoking, i guess no more angst ;)

summary: pink lighter brings people back together

// 900 words

when you came home that night all you wanted to do was bury yourself under the blanket and go to sleep. you needed to forget everything that happened. it wasn’t reasonable really. kissing your ex that made you feel like shit? not a good idea.

you woke up the next day and wanted to check your phone. of course it was dead and you forgot to charge it after the party. you quickly plugged it in and a new notification popped up.

‚1 missed call from joost’

you didn’t think he would try to reach you. he didn’t follow you when you rushed out of the apartment last night, so you thought it was pretty obvious that he gave up. maybe he didn’t after all?

you weren’t gonna call him back. why would you? this whole situation was already pretty fucked up. you felt lost.

you got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready to look presentable. after that all you needed was a strong coffee. it always made you feel better. on your way to the kitchen you suddenly heard a knock on the door.

‚it’s 10 am, people. what do you want from me this early?’ you muttered.

without looking through the peephole, you opened the door and regretted it right away.

he was standing in front of you, as if you had attracted him with your thoughts. he held a bouquet of your beloved peonies in his hands. he looked tired, as if he still hadn't managed to get rid of the thoughts of yesterday.

you looked at him with raised eyebrows without saying anything. you both just looked at each other for couple of minutes. joost decided to finally break this strange silence.

‚may i come in? please.’

you stepped aside, letting him into your apartment.

‚these are for you, of course.’ he smiled softly.

you took the flowers from him with the intention of putting them in a vase.

‚thank you, that’s very nice.’

joost followed you into the kitchen. after a while, you turned towards the man who was standing in the corner of the room, watching you.

‚listen, i want to say sorry for the last night.’ you started ‚i shouldn’t have kissed you.’

joost looked at you with slight resentment in his eyes.

‚do you regret it, y/n?’

his question flustered you. of course you didn’t. how could you regret something like that. you loved him, even after all of this.

he still waited for your answer.

‚you know i didn’t.’

‚then don’t apologize for it.’ as he said these words, he slowly moved closer to you.

you were now between his body and the kitchen counter. you couldn't run away anymore, like you always did when it was getting tough.

‚i love you, y/n. i'll say it a million times if i have to, you know?’

you looked into each other's eyes. it seemed to you that at that moment joost was able to read your every thought.

‚please, give me one more chance. i promise you, i won’t fuck it up this time.’

you felt he was being sincere in that moment, but there were a million thoughts in your head.

what if he hurts you again?

what if it’s just lies?

you ran your hand across his cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen from his eye.

‚i care about you too much. i don't think i would forgive myself if i didn't give you one more chance.’ you looked at him and smiled slightly.

maybe you were naive, who knows. but you knew one thing. you knew this blonde man was too valuable to be written off because of his idiotic mistake.

joost didn't say anything, he just connected your lips and kissed you with such force that you almost couldn't feel your face.

after a while, you broke away from him and asked with a slight smile.

‚you wanna smoke with me?’

he laughed briefly. you loved that laugh.

‚you don’t have to ask me twice, honey.’

you took his hand and led him to the living room with a large window. you opened it and sat with him on the windowsill. joost took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and handed one to you. you placed your head on his shoulder and he hugged you lightly.

‚fuck, i don’t have a lighter anywhere in the apartment’ you turned your head towards him.

‚i lost the one you gave me yesterday on my way home…’

joost put his hand in his pocket and after a second he waved a pink lighter in front of your eyes - the exact same one you gave him the day you met. a huge smile appeared on your face.

‚no way, you still have it!’ you punched his shoulder mockingly.

‚i will always have it.’ he looked down at you and kissed the top of your head.

he lit your cigarette and immediately did the same with his own. you sat there, looking at people passing by on the street.

you felt good. you wanted this moment to last forever because that's what made you feel safe.

finally everything was starting to fall into place. you realized that he made you feel at home. he was your home.

you could spend your whole life like this - smoking cheap cigarettes with the love of your life by your side. and this stupid pink lighter, of course. emptiness didn't exist when he was around.

[agirlandherquill]

alpha-write

returning to writeblr after a short break has been so enjoyable I thought I'd kick things off by creating a tag game of my own! (since the first one I made people really did seem to enjoy, and it warms my heart) and it's an easy way to ease myself back into the creative flow, so here goes!

rules: for every letter of the alphabet, compose a sentence/short paragraph beginning with that letter

A - "Anything you have to say for yourself? Or is nothing perhaps the better choice for you? How else could you justify the blood on your sleeves?"

B - "Broken. Not bruised, not damaged - You made me broken. That hardly seems fair."

C - "Can we do this?" "Can? We will. We have to. It must be done. Right or wrong, balance must be restored."

D - Dragging a corpse is difficult enough, but when you resemble a corpse yourself? There's some irony in there that even the Gods aren't smart enough to conjure.

E - Everything hurt, everything ached beyond relief, beyond the threshold of pain, until she felt nothing and everything, all at the same time.

F - Forget him? That was a plea she could never answer, could never give light to or thought or hope, to forget was to forgo herself, her feelings, her very being - He was as much a part of her as the air in her lungs - to lose him would be death.

G - "Go." Not a scream, not a growl, but a whisper - a calm command that sent the hairs raising along her skin. For once, she obeyed.

H - How did this happen? How did she forget herself so badly, so stupidly and allow her vulnerabilities to be exposed? Even worse, how could she let him be the one to do it? He knows, and knowing is death. This was the end, for her, she knew it.

I - "If you must be such a pain in the neck could you go about it quietly? One more squeak from the sole of your boot and I will rip those laces out and around your neck. I mean it." "Then give me a reason to stop pacing."

J - Just a kiss. Just. As though the fleeting encounter was nothing more than that, as though it hadn't taken every strength he had within him. To her, it was just a kiss. To him, it was ruin.

K - "Keep running. To stop now is death, is that what you want? Because I will not stop to carry your corpse, I will not stop to remember you. If you falter, you are gone. Do you hear me?"

L - Loathing burned her insides, it sent her skin crawling with heat and her muscles tensing with a carefully restrained scream. She loathed him. That was it. After all this time, she understood it. It was not love, it was loathing.

M - "Marry me." "The last time we tried that... Someone died." "Marry me." He said again, more firmly. "Marry me, or we both die."

N - "Never again." "Why? What was so wrong the first time?" "The dozens of times after that. It cannot happen." "A kiss never got anyone killed." "Then you do not know this Court, and you do not know me."

O - "Opinionated, are we?" "Is this because I told you to your face what a horrifically mannered man you are?" "No, this is because you tried to stab me with a fork." "I missed, didn't I?" "That's hardly the point."

P - Pressing her cheek to his shoulder, she let herself break, let the tears fall and the emotions flow. He said nothing, and neither did she, it was only them and the silence of the lake, and that was enough.

Q - "Question me again and we will see what happens when you try my patience." "Try? I've been getting under your skin for the better part of the day, why haven't you done anything about it?"

R - Rest was a foreign luxury, it had abandoned her body long ago, instead she lay suffocating in boredom and misery until she could bear it no longer, and found herself outside his door.

S - "Step away, out of this room and far from earshot - Do it now, before I see fit to carry you."

T - "Trust me." "Why-" She had no chance to complete her question, he threw her out of the window.

U - Under the stars, all seemed calm, a false calm, but a calm she had long since been craving nonetheless, until his voice, as gentle as the wind, startled her wishful reverie. "Leave if you must, but not without knowing that I love you."

V - Verily, she was done. Her soul was in ruins, her body in tatters, and her heart beat it's last drum.

W - "When you decide to have some compassion, let me know, until then I want nothing to do with you."

X - (if this one's impossible to do, no biggie, skip if necessary) - "Xanthetia is a flower full of poison that could damn well kill you, what are you doing lying in a bed of it?" "The scent is the only thing that helps me sleep."

Y - "You know what you did. As do I. And it's unforgivable." "I do not seek your forgiveness, but I will beg, every day if I must, for the honour of your company." "...We shall see."

Z - "Zealous, insufferable bastard - that's what you are!" "You've said worse, you can say better than that." His smug look riled her up even more. "You are incapable of being loved, you're not worthy of that, only loathing, you despicable, monstrous being!" "Loathe away by all means, I rather enjoy the flush it brings to your face."

i'll make this an open tag as well as include my tag list! (this one's a doozy, so bear with me)

@the-ellia-west @willtheweaver @tildeathiwillwrite @drchenquill @tiredpapergirl

@365runesofthesystem @coffin-hopping @godsmostfuckedupgoblin @a-mimsy-borogove @frostedlemonwriter

@i-do-anything-but-write @r-u-living @thatuselesshuman @lead-to-code @sunflowerrosy

@theaistired @phoenixradiant @autism-purgatory @corinneglass @patheticexcuseforawriter

@missmisanthrope @littlestchildofthemoon @morganxduinn @thebrownleathernotebook @rmhashauthor

@lamuradex @fantasy-things-and-such @glasshouses-and-stones @hattonthehatman @humbly-a-doppelganger

@hopewriteszstuff @ramwritblr @s-pendragon7 @thelastneuron @heartreactor

@ihauntmyhouse @shiningstars-world @scaewolf @just-emis-blog @joeys-piano

@ramitola @yrndrgn @riveriafalll @lawrencespen1777 @theverumproject

@zackprincebooks @justjariel @orion-lacroix @jupiter---daydreams @vinniehorrible

@stars-forever @thewritingautisticat @anaisbebe @whatwewrotepodcast @appleandsnow

@urnumber1star @chaotictravelerrants @andagii-projects @dragmewithyoutonirvana @a-bi-cat-with-books

@fearofahumanplanet @just-a-domesticated-cryptid @attemptingwriter @kitkins13 @ray-writes-n-shit

@theonewholivesinthemovies @rheas-chaos-motivation

[0cta9on]

Cute Thought: Minji

Hoya there bud✌️ How's your week so far? Mine was hectic, multiple exams in a day for 3 days straight on top of numbers of assignment admission needed to do. One cooked electronics test and one hopeful Thermal exam (others are mehhh😌), and end with postponed assignment dateline (let's goooo)

May I have a cute thought for the following scenarios below? If you ever feel the burden to do it, you can make it short like @coldfanbou did with his "thought" series.

"Minji felt jealous when she saw you interacting with your colleagues the other day, your smile that's not for her, she hated every second of it. As soon as you entered her apartment, "Welcome back" her tone sounded melancholy but her outfit stunned you. Your mind was playing with you, expecting some surprises but there was no advancement of her and she went back to the couch watching the tv. You were perplexed by it........"

(I felt some words of assurance and comforting essence in this one, she's jealous but doesn't want to tell you, I prefer this flow but I trust you more 0cta9on 🗿👍)

hello mikeylo! I could make it short, but where's the fun in that :> Also, went in a little bit of a different direction, but I hope you still enjoy it!

"Alright, you guys are dismissed! Thanks for coming to my class!"

Being a dance teacher isn't exactly where you thought you would be 5 years ago (Your computer science degree is a constant reminder that you had much different aspirations), but it's fun and it pays the bills so you're not exactly complaining.

"Teacher! Can we take a picture with you?"

Plus, you get attention from cute girls that never gave you the time of day when you were a student. You have a wonderful girlfriend at home that you would never think about cheating on, but again, you're not complaining about the extra attention. They are responsible for putting food on your table, so you do feel a little indebted to them.

It's just a simple picture. What could go wrong?

______________________________________________________________

"Baby~! I'm home!" You call out as you enter your apartment. You expect to hear a flurry of excited footsteps followed by your girlfriend's smiling face, but all you're met with is the TV playing in the background and a cold "Welcome back" echoing from the couch.

A torrent of questions and worries fill your head with each step towards the couch. Is she okay? Did something bad happen to her? Is she sick?

"Minji? Are you y- Oh wow." Your jaw drops in awe as your gaze falls upon the beauty that's sitting on your couch. One of the things you love about Minji is her tomboyish charm, which often presents itself through her fashion sense. Jeans over skirts, converse over high heels, she'll often rummage through your closet if she's not feeling anything in her own. However, when she does dress up, it feels like the moon and the stars align to create the most beautiful being in the entire galaxy.

Normally, you would enjoy seeing her like this, but the clear grimace on her face only makes you feel worried.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" You sit down next to her, but Minji scoots away, placing a pillow in between the two of you without so much as a glance in your direction. Your heart shatters into a million pieces as your mind races for a possible reason behind her behavior. It's not your anniversary, nor is it her birthday. Maybe it's her parents birthday? She wouldn't get this mad if you forgot that, right?

As your gaze falls to the ground in defeat, you notice her phone turned onto a familiar looking picture. She snatches her phone away, but not before you're able to take a good look at it

She was looking at the selfie you took with your female students.

You turn to look at her, but she hides her face behind her hair. "Baby~" You call out to her, reaching for her hand, but she doesn't budge.

"Are you mad?" No answer.

You collapse face first into the space next to her, feeling absolutely crushed. Minji knows how much you hate the silent treatment, yet here she is, using it against you.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'll never talk to another woman again. I won't even look at any other woman. Just please talk to me, Minji," you groan, your voice muffled by the couch cushions. After a second, you hear a stifled chuckle followed by the feeling of her delicate hands ruffling your hair.

"You don't have to do that much," she says, a small grin evident in her tone. You quickly sit up to look at her, relieved that you finally get to hear her sweet voice again.

"I'm sorry if I upset you with the picture-"

"No no, it's fine," she assures you, an apologetic look in her eye. "I just... I got a little jealous, I guess. They're all really pretty, and I-"

"Don't even finish that sentence," you interrupt. You grab her hand, lacing your fingers with hers, and plant a firm kiss on her cheek. "You are beautiful, Minji, more beautiful than anyone else in the entire world. I wish I could give you my eyes just so you could see how beautiful you truly are to me."

You pause, suddenly connecting the puzzle pieces in your mind. "Is that why you're wearing a dress?"

Her cheeks suddenly turn a bright pink as she averts her gaze to the ground. "I-I..." The silence is answer enough.

"Baby..." You pull her into you, wrapping your arms around her torso in a warm embrace. "If you want to wear a dress, you should do it for you, not because you want to make yourself look pretty for me. I like the way you dress, it's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I think you're really cool."

Minji chuckles warmly, nuzzling her head into your chest. "Thanks, babe. I think you're pretty cool too."

With a wide grin on your face, you lie back on the couch with Minji resting on top of you, so warm and light. She smiles at you before placing a gentle kiss on your cheek, sending your heart into a frenzy. You have a busy day tomorrow that you should probably prepare for, but right now, all you want to do is lay on the couch and watch TV with your girlfriend.

[raineandsky]

hi! i love ur work! i was wondering if you could write something about two enemies (hero x villain) that are undercover as civilians and begrudgingly working together? and somehow villain witnesses an interaction between hero and someone that clearly makes the hero uncomfortable, and realizes his hero has some trauma there? thank you!

ooooh i love this!! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy :D

tw: stalking

“Huh,” someone says flatly from the tills. “Long time no see.”

The hero’s gaze is turned very pointedly to the screen in front of them. “Yeah.”

The villain glances up from where he’s more or less fighting a stack of baskets. A woman is letting herself into the hero’s space, her arm resting casually on the counter and a smug smirk playing at her lips. The hero is leaning as far away as physically possible from her, looking anywhere but her face.

Ooh, drama. The villain can’t deny a little excitement in this bland little life.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” the woman continues. Her voice is much too loud for what she’s saying. The hero winces. The villain edges curiously closer. “A talk is long overdue, ain’t it?”

“I’m working,” the hero says weakly.

The hero has a fatal flaw. The villain positively delights in the fact. As if the hero can feel the joy radiating off the villain, they shoot him a desperate glance.

“You’re helping a customer, honey,” the woman says brazenly. “Now tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Sorry.” An older man pulls the villain’s attention from the unfolding show in front of him, much to his dismay. “I’ve been waiting a while. Is that the only till available?”

The villain groans inwardly. This bit of fun will have to be for another day. “Sorry. Let me sort that for you.”

He makes his way to the tills, where the hero is trying—and failing, by the looks of it—to shoot down the woman’s questions. Villainy has given him an extra lack of care; he shoves himself straight into their conversation without a thought.

“Hi,” the villain cuts in smoothly, “hi—sorry, you’re holding up the queue.”

A queue of one, mind. The woman gives him an incredulous once-over. “They’re helping a customer, honey.”

“They’re chatting on the job.” The villain shoots the hero an annoyed glare, which they return, stupidly, with relief. “You’re preventing our staff from working. I need you to pay and leave, please.”

The woman smirks like she’s about to win an argument. “I’m not paying for anything.”

“Oh, cool.” The villain returns her smugness with plain annoyance. “You can just get out then.”

“You—! Ugh, fine.” The woman sneers at him before turning her gaze back to the hero. “I’ll see you at the end of your shift, honey.”

The hero positively pales. “Oh, uh—”

The woman saunters for the doors, clearly disinterested in an answer, and the hero watches her go blankly.

“Alright.” The villain ushers the old man ahead. “Do your job this time, or I’ll have to smite you into next week.”

The literalness of the sentence is lost to the old man, but the hero smiles slightly at the threat anyway.

He leaves after what feels like an eternity, and the villain pounces on his opportunity for gossip instantly. “Well? Make this dead-end job worth it, please.”

The hero’s face hardens into an irritated frown. “Is there a reason you’re so interested in my life?”

The villain graves him with an innocent smile. “Blackmail.”

The hero stares at him for a long moment before deflating with a sigh. They start folding a plastic bag more carefully than the villain has ever had the displeasure of watching. “She’s my ex.”

“It’s always the ex!” The villain laughs, giving the hero a light punch in the arm. It’s a lot calmer a gesture than he’ll be giving them later, but he doesn’t need the entire shop knowing he could burn this place to the ground. “What’d you do to piss her off?”

The bag gets lovingly placed on the folded bag pile the hero apparently has. The villain’s never been close enough to this till to have noticed it before.

“I didn’t do anything,” the hero says defensively. “She’s the one who couldn’t let it go and thinks following me around is going to fix anything.”

The villain gapes openly at the hero. The hero pointedly turns away to fiddle with something on the register next to them.

“Oh my god,” the villain says in the tones of a dramatic schoolgirl. “You have a stalker.”

The no I don’t the villain was expecting doesn’t come out. The hero carefully adjusts the register screen, the angle way more important than it should be. “Oh my god, [Hero],” the villain repeats, “you have a stalker.”

“I don’t see why that’s such a crazy concept to you,” the hero snaps. “I thought you’d have loved the thought of someone creeping around after me.”

“I’d love it if it was me creeping around after you,” the villain says with a scoff. “I know what I’d be doing if I was doing it. What’s she doing?”

“Hoping I’ll talk to her.”

“She’s insane.”

“That’s well established by now.”

“Okay, well…” The villain wrings his hands awkwardly. “If you, like, want me to smite her or anything, y’know…”

“What is with you and smiting people?” The hero laughs, kind of, and the villain hates that he’s glad they do. “And why would you do it if I wanted you to?”

The villain shrugs. He’s the one turning his face away now, picking idly at some of the vinyl peeling off the counter. “It’s a nice excuse for me to go after someone who clearly deserves it.”

“And I don’t?”

“I’m trying to be nice for the first time in my life, [Hero],” the villain snaps sharply. “Stop making it so difficult.”

The hero rolls their eyes. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead. I’ll be reporting this to the first journalist I see though. Ah, I can see the headline already.” They grin at the villain’s growing scowl. “Evil villain turned good by a hero's personal problems. They would love you.”

“And I’m going to love kicking your ass so hard tonight you won’t be able to sit for a week,” he retorts. Then, after a moment’s deliberation, “do you need me to walk you to your car?”

“Aww, you’re so—”

“Okay, no, nevermind. Walk yourself.”

The hero smiles lightly. “If you don’t mind. It’d help a lot.”

The villain nods shortly. He turns back the pile of baskets and makes a mental note to add an extra round to his smiting machine later.

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter 3

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

3/10

W/c: 5.1k

Warning: Domestic violence

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: Yes, I have a lot of WIPS sue me!

Natasha grew up in a facility with twenty-three other girls. She worked tirelessly to be the best in her generation. Not because she wanted to but because she had to. She woke up every single day with the same goals in mind. To train, to learn, to fight. She ate with the girls, attended Red Room’s version of schooling with them, and even befriended a few. This didn’t work out in much of the way she wanted. She experienced loss at a young age. To progress, she had to kill the other girls in her class. She had to become numb or she would fall. She went through hell and back just to come out on top. She understands how it feels to be an asset to someone that doesn’t see a person as anything more than that. She understands. She’s lived her version of hell.

As she grew and her life took on different paths so did her mindset. She was taken under Clint’s wing. She became close with him and his wife. Rarely did she ever allow herself to love. With Clint it was easy. He didn’t berate her. He didn’t hurt her. He only pushed her to be the best version of herself that she could be. Which sounds cheesy but it’s helped her immensely. She was always evolving and she could see that now. Each moment in her life changed her for the better or the worse.

This time for Natasha, it was the very moment she picked you up. She didn’t mind the late-night pickup. She didn’t care that you called. She’s used to being able to jump up in a flash. All she wanted was for you to be safe. She wanted Kaia to be safe. The anger coursing through her seeing your face scared her. To see you so exhausted. Bloody and bruised. It was an unimaginable sadness. How could someone do that to a person they claim to love? How could they live with themselves?

It’s a recurring thought that Natasha tries to put to rest. She knows why. She’s seen monsters. She’s watched them with her own eyes commit atrocities you wouldn’t believe. This particular situation put her at a disadvantage. She’s not sure how to help you. She’s not sure if you’ll even want to stay. What she does know is that she needs to make your time here comfortable. The recovery won’t be easy but she has to do something.

Natasha woke up with a purpose. She started her morning routine feeding Liho. She moved around the kitchen with swift steps as she prepared his meal. Next was brushing her teeth and skincare. She doesn’t have some twelve-step routine but she likes giving herself that care. She uses the half bathroom to not disturb you and Kaia. Once she’s done she goes back into the kitchen to go over her next steps.

She opened the refrigerator cursing to herself at finding the shelves bare. It’s only ever been her to step inside of this apartment. She doesn’t have visitors. She doesn’t let people over. She certainly doesn’t tell anyone where she stays. The only one to know the existence of this place is Ricky Mason and maybe Nick Fury. That man had a way of knowing everything. He was almost as good as her. She took a mental note to ask what you liked to eat.

She prepared herself a cup of tea while searching through her drawers for a pen and pad. Once she found a working Inkpen and a blank sheet on the pad she walked over to her couch to sit. She didn’t flinch when Liho jumped to sit on the headrest beside her head. She presses the pen to her lip and thinks about what to get first. She’s never had to shop for anyone else. She’s never had to think about anyone else but herself.

Natasha reaches for her phone only having one person to call.

She presses the phone, bringing it to her ear to listen. It’s 9 am. Laura and Clint will be up. Laura answers the phone on the second ring.

“Natasha?” Laura questions.

“Hey, do you have a second?” Natasha asks.

“Yes, Clint is out with the kids right now. Did you want to speak with him ?”

“No, actually, I wanted your advice.” Natasha stares down at the pad. She scribbles the title “Shopping” at the top of the page. “I have a friend here and I need to do a bit of shopping.”

“Oh, okay.” Laura doesn’t even try to hide her surprise. She’s never known Natasha to have friends outside of her small circle.

“She’s just leaving a tough situation and she has a baby. She’s - Kaia is one I think.” Natasha guesses based on memory. “They don’t have much right now and I wanted to get them started. I guess I just want to know where to start.”

Laura is more than happy to help. She sees her as a younger sister even though they’re only a few years apart. If Natasha is coming to her for advice then it’s something serious. It’s something she cares about.

“Well, first I would check the little one’s diaper size. I doubt she’s potty trained yet,” Laura lists off. Natasha writes it on the pad. She listens to the items as if it’s the most important information. “Then I would go for clothes. I would start with the basics. Onesies, t-shirts, pants. Does she have a jacket or coat? I know it’s getting chilly in New York.”

“No, neither of them did. I don’t think she was able to grab it when I picked them up.” Natasha bites her lip nervously.

“Well they’re both going to need one,” Laura wants to ask questions. She’s curious but she doesn’t want Natasha to shut down. “I would ask her mom but usually I get the kids’ jackets a size bigger for them to grow into. They grow quickly.” Natasha writes this down too. She knows nothing about babies outside of helping with Lila, Cooper, and now Nathaniel.

“What about the food? Can she eat what we eat or does she need special food? She has a few teeth I think.” Natasha sets the pen down. She does remember feeding Kaia the muffin but further than that she’s clueless. “Do you think I’m overdoing it?”

“She’s well over the age to start eating solids so I bet she does,” Laura guesses. “I think you’re a good friend and whomever this person maybe, she is lucky to have you, Natasha. Sounds like she means a lot to you.”

Natasha breathes a sigh of relief. She holds the phone allowing herself to feel whatever it is she’s feeling. She can’t quite describe it.

“They mean a lot to me, Laur,” Natasha admits. “I’ve never.” She doesn’t want to voice her insecurity. She feels she may be way in over her head. What if she can’t give you the full support that you need? What if you decide that this isn’t what you want? She’s not expecting you to jump into a relationship with her. She made that clear last night. Her support isn’t based on contingencies. She’s not that kind of person. She will respect your wishes if you decided to live on your own somewhere. She only wants you safe. Your safety is number one.

“I know, Nat.” Laura empathizes.

“She’s going through something with her boyfriend,” Natasha looks up at the ceiling. She blinks away the tears in her eyes and clears her throat. “I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing. I’m just so mad. He hurt her.”

“Oh, Natasha,” Laura says. She listens as Natasha repositions the phone against her ear. “If she came to you then she was confident that you would know what to do. I don’t think she will expect much from you. She just needs support and safety right now.”

Natasha nods before realizing Laura can’t see her.

“It won’t be easy for her. Don’t lose faith.”

“I won’t,” Natasha is sure of it. She’s not going to give up on you. She couldn’t. Not when her heart is in it. It terrifies her. She feels so strongly for you in such a short amount of time. It’s a feeling that sends her flying while also wanting to make her run. She’s not going to run. She won’t do that. “Is there more that I should get? Toys and things like that?”

“Toys, books, blankets. How long do you plan on them staying?”

“For as long as they need,” Natasha replies. She means it.

“Well then, go ahead and grab a pen and paper because you’re going to need a list.”

Natasha picks up the pen again to begin writing down everything Laura relays to her. She didn’t realize taking care of a baby required so much. She’s not clueless. She’s just never had to think about any of this. When she's done talking to Laura she hangs up feeling so much lighter. She makes quick work of opening her laptop and finding the best grocery delivery websites. Then she goes to a baby website. There’s a place that could deliver things today. It takes her over an hour to shop for everything. She gets the basics in hopes to talk with you later about other necessities.

**********

She closes her laptop feeling accomplished. After throwing an extra hefty tip the groceries would be delivered in the next hour. The baby’s clothes and other items would be here around the same time. Now that that’s done she has to find something to occupy herself with. She drinks the rest of her now cool tea before standing to dump it in the kitchen sink. She looks around the room. It’s a bachelorette pad. It’s bare. She doesn’t decorate. It’s not her thing. There are not even pictures on the wall.

Natasha finds herself bored. She doesn’t want to leave you both in the apartment just yet. She would usually be at the tower by now finishing up a workout. Deciding to come to check on you, she walks down the hallway to peek inside. You’re still asleep. You must be pretty exhausted. After the night you’ve had it’s only right for you to rest as much as you can. Natasha is just about to walk back to the living room when a small head lifts from the bed. Kaia pushes herself up onto her knees. She whimpers, unaware of her new surroundings before she finds you a few feet away from her. She taps at your shoulder to no avail.

Natasha debates on whether or not she should take her. Would she cry? Technically she doesn’t even know Natasha. She steps inside of the bedroom, Kaia’s eyes quickly finding hers.

“Hi,” Natasha says softly. Kaia watches as she approaches the bed. She raises her arms to be picked up by Natasha. Another grown-up was good enough. “Your mama is still sleeping. You must be hungry.” Natasha helps the toddler into her arms. She practically melts when Kaia lies her head on her shoulder. Weighting a baby and feeling how real she is. It’s weird, to say the least. There are remnants of sleep as she breathes against Natasha’s neck. “Let’s go find something for you to eat.” Natasha finds it a bit silly to be talking to herself but Kaia seems to be a great listener. She pads out of the bedroom to go to the kitchen. Liho is drinking from his bowl when Kaia spots him. She raises her head, watching him in interest, but making no move to leave Natasha’s arms.

“That’s Liho,” Natasha crouches down to introduce them. “He’s a cat.”

“Cat?” Kaia mimics. She reaches a hand out to pet Liho. Her touch is rough and she grabs at his fur. Natasha raises her hand to free Liho from Kaia’s hold. The cat quickly makes his exit.

“Gentle, baby,” Natasha instructs her.

Kaia wiggles from Natasha’s arms to slide onto the ground. She crawls over to Liho’s water bowl. She immediately smashes her hand into the bowl in an attempt to pour the water into her mouth. Natasha gasps, pulling the bowl away from her and picking Kaia up. Okay, so she had a few things to learn.

“Are you thirsty sweet girl?” Natasha laughs. She sure hopes you won’t be angry at this little mishap. She stands with Kaia to turn to grab a bottle of water in the fridge. She opens it and holds it out to Kaia. Kaia’s arms leave Natasha’s shoulders to take the bottle with both hands. She immediately guzzles down the water, swallowing harshly. Suddenly, she lets go of the bottle prematurely, spilling much of the water on her shirt. She gasps and coughs. Natasha takes the bottle to set it on the counter while patting her back to help her through. Kaia coughs harshly one more time before giving Natasha a surprised look. “Okay, I am so glad I added baby cups to that list.” Natasha shakes her head. Kaia rubs her hand against her belly. She’s not very happy with her messy shirt. Liho makes a reappearance this time to purr against Natasha’s legs.

“Cat!” Kaia calls out to Liho.

“No, no cat, let’s find something to eat.” Natasha finds a small box of cheerios in the cabinets that she can share. She eats them from time to time. Without a proper chair for the girl, she sits at the table with Kaia on her lap. She foregoes milk and places the cheerios in a bowl. She allows Kaia to eat with her hands while she sends a text to Steve and the rest of the team. She’s positive Steve and Sam told everyone else the situation with you. Everyone sends well wishes and hopes to see you soon. Natasha is pulled from her messaging when Kaia holds up a cheerio in the palm of her hand. She places it against Natasha’s lips and the redhead opens her mouth with a smile.

Were kids always this cute?

“That’s for you,” Natasha tells her but Kaia has other plans. In between feeding herself, she will give Natasha a cheerio. Natasha would take it gratefully. She scrolls through her emails while making sure Kaia eats all of her food. Finally, after the better part of an hour, Kaia pushes the plate away. She’s ready to play. There’s a knock at the front door and Natasha knows it’s the delivery. She asked for no contact and as she peeks through the peephole she knows they followed orders. Kaia waits patiently on the kitchen floor as Natasha brings in the bags. She might have gone overboard with the amount of food. Kaia peeks through the bags with new curiosity. She finds a can of food that she tosses on the ground. She enjoys the loud noises.

Natasha takes the can away and replaces it with a wooden spoon for her to smash against the floor. Kaia happily takes it and taps it haphazardly against the cabinets. There’s another knock at the door. Natasha quickly takes the packages and tosses them to the side. She doesn’t want to leave Kaia for too long. Deciding the toddler is occupied for long enough, she sets out on putting the groceries away.

************

When you finally awaken it’s with a stiffness in your back that you find all too familiar. Your lip still feels a bit sore and you could feel nausea at the forefront of your mind. You wait a few seconds to gather yourself before standing from the bed. The only thing on your mind is to pee. You rush to the bathroom to do your business. You can hear a slight banging coming from the front of the apartment. That’s where Kaia must be. Briefly, your mind wonders if this is all a dream. Did you leave? Did you get away? You find the extra toothbrush left for you. You brush your teeth bent over the sink. You don’t want to look. You don’t want to see how bad it is. Looking would only serve as a reminder. Only this serves to be hard when you need to wash your face. You stand straighter to look at yourself. It’s not as bad as you thought. Certainly not something that should have happened. The apple of your cheek is a purplish color but isn’t scary. Your lip is split and you’re hoping with time it heals. You don’t think you need stitches so hopefully, there’s no scar. You don’t know how long you stand there. You just look at yourself wondering how you ever became this person.

Why did you allow him to do that to you? Why weren’t you strong enough? A squeal from the kitchen pulls you from your thoughts. Kaia is depending on you. She’s depending on you to do better and be better. Even if all you want to do is climb back into the bed and hide under the covers you don’t. She needs you.

You leave the bathroom to follow the sounds of the banging. You are a bit surprised to find the endearing scene in front of you.

Natasha is sitting with her back against the cabinets as Kaia plays with pots and pans in front of her. Occasionally she will give a tap much to Kaia’s delight. You watch them with a smile. You glance over to the time on the stove. 11 A.M. You slept for so long. For some reason, you feel like most of your day is wasted. Natasha laughs at something Kaia does.

“What’s all this?” You ask startling them both. You point over to the packages waiting by the front door. Natasha lifts her head, her eyes following your finger, and then back to you.

“They’re supplies,” She says simply.

“Supplies?” You repeat back. You round the counter to Kaia putting the wooden spoon into her mouth again. Natasha quickly takes it from her much to her disappointment.

“For you and Kaia,” Natasha says. Your eyes widen.

“Natasha, no, I can’t pay you back,” You frown.

“You don’t need to,” She shakes her head. “You need things. Besides, I used Tony’s credit card.” She shrugs with a hint of amusement. You find yourself smiling back. It was always fun to use Tony Starks money. You crouch down to sit on your bottom next to Kaia. She looks over to you before continuing to play with the pots.

“Thank you, Nat.” You say. “I take it they know?”

“I had to tell them,” Natasha gauges your reaction. You nod. Of course, she did. “If they’re going to be your support system they had to know a little bit. Only the important details. That you and Kaia got out and now you’re staying with me.”

You think about that. “Thank you.” Natasha doesn’t respond. She would do it all again if you asked.

“Nat,” You run a hand over Kaia’s head smoothing down her hair. “About last night when... I kissed you.” She tilts her head. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you had to do that. I wasn’t in the right headspace and we’ve never even talked about anything past us. I mean technically I’m still with Keith. Not really. I don’t know. I left and I was here and I was just feeling so many emotions and it wasn’t the right time. I wasn’t trying to repay you with sex. At least, not intentionally. So, in short, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation.”

Natasha listens to your rambling so patiently, She lets you get out your thoughts without any judgment. You’re realizing you don’t like that she has such a good poker face. If she was thinking something she doesn’t say it. She simply waits until you’re done.

“First, you didn’t put me in any situation I didn’t want to be in,” Natasha begins. She sits up straighter against the counters. “ I kissed you back. I would think the blame would be more on me for letting it happen when you’re so upset.”

“Nat,” You begin and this time she interrupts.

“I know it’s going to take a while for you to be okay. Let yourself feel everything. It may be confusing. You might even still have feelings for him. Let it happen. I’m right here every step of the way.” She promises.

“Is that fair to you?” You move to bite your lip until you remember the injury. “I’m sitting here crying, bruised, and pregnant with another man’s baby. You’re showing me all of this grace and I don’t deserve it. Why are you being so patient with me?” Your eyes drop to the floor to avoid crying. You’d rather not cry anymore.

“Because you deserve it,” Natasha says firmly. “You deserve patience and kindness. It doesn’t matter what’s fair to me. I’m not going to take advantage of you. Not now and not ever.” You nod.

“Thank you,” You whisper.

“Besides, I am not helping you with the expectation of a relationship.” Natasha asserted. She twirls the spoon around in her hand. “I’m helping you because I care about you. And Kaia.” The silence between the two of you speaks volumes. You’re allowing her words to settle inside of you while she hangs on to her last bit of sanity. She won’t admit it but she’s scared too. She’s terrified of her feelings.

“Your shirt’s all wet,” You notice Kaia’s drenched outfit.

“Yeah we may have had a couple of incidents earlier,” Natasha manages to look guilty.

“It happens, kids are messy.” You say nonchalantly.

“I bought clothes and diapers for her. I hope that’s okay.” Natasha gestures towards the packages.

“It’s fine.”

“Let’s open them,” Natasha stands to grab the first packages for you. She steps over the many pots and pans. Kaia’s eyes follow her with deep interest.

“Do you like Natasha baby bird?” You whisper into her ear. She taps against the pans again and you cringe. Natasha’s neighbors probably wouldn’t be too happy with the noise. Natasha comes back with the first two packages while kicking a box of diapers along the floor. She stops in front of you to open the drawer next to your head. There she finds a box cutter.

“How were you able to get all of this stuff on short notice?”

“I know a guy,” Natasha smirks. She opens the boxes and sets them down between you. “I hope everything fits her. I called in a friend to ask about babies since she has three.” Natasha confesses.

“Well your friend is very good at baby knowledge,” You search through the box. The diaper size is right. “I’m going to go change her quick,” You say while grabbing Kaia. Her shirt is soaked.

“I’m going to put these things away,” Natasha says. “I only have one bedroom so the hall closet will have to do for now.” She begins to put the extras away while leaving out the toys and other necessities she bought. You set Kaia onto a towel on the bed and pull her pants off first. Then you tug the buttons of her onesie. She isn’t much help as you maneuver her around to put on a fresh diaper. The sizing is perfect. Then you grab one of the new t-shirts and a pair of baby sweatpants that are simply adorable. Natasha’s style of choice was cute and it clearly shows that she hand-picked these items.

“Kaia, Mama’s new friend is nice,” You whisper to the toddler. She looks up at you as if she understands. “I know right now I like her. She’s been so helpful. When you meet the team you’ll get to see that they’re all pretty cool people.” Once Kaia is fully dressed you walk back into the living room where Natasha is looking at a giant box. A playpen.

Her hands are on her hips as she sports a look of concentration. How was she going to build this?

“I wouldn’t even bother until later,” You tell her. She drops her hands. She would get it done.

You sit with Kaia on the couch and she follows.

“I made a list of things you needed,” She hands the pen and pad to you. “I don’t know if there’s anything else you need but I figured we could look together.” You look down at the pad. Everything seemed pretty straightforward. “I was wondering about a few important things. Y/n, do you plan on reporting what happened ?” You stop breathing for a second. Kaia wriggles in your arms to be put down. She wants to touch the new toys that are on the floor. You let her go as you’re too busy trying to understand the question.

“Report him?” It feels thick on your tongue. You hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I can’t… I won’t.” Reporting Keith would open up an entirely new can of worms. He’d be in trouble. He’d be so pissed. You don’t want to involve the police in your problems. It’s not worth it.

“Have you thought about that at all?” Natasha dips her head to get you to look at her. You shake your head no. “Y/n, I’m not trying to preach to you but I think it’s something we have to do.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s still out there. He hurt you.”

“He can’t find me,” You say sullenly.

“I know that,” Natasha says. “Sam says it’s important to have a paper trail. For evidence. If he were to try and get custody of Kaia there may be a fight. He could win.”

“Because he’s Keith,” You say. “He has money and good resources and a job. I have none of that. If I report it he’s going to hate me, Natasha. You don’t understand.”

“I do,” Natasha helps to open the toy Kaia brings her. “I understand very well that we could have lost you. I understand that he hurt you and he hurt Kaia. I understand that you are pregnant, Y/n. If you were to go back to him it could be deadly for you and the baby.” Your hand flies to your abdomen.

“I know, I know,” You shake your head. “I know. I just… I don’t want to do that. I don’t want people to know. It’s not. He didn't put me in the hospital. It’s not…”

“How long until he does though?” Natasha isn’t trying to be a bitch. She’s not trying to force you to do something you don’t want. She only wants you to see how serious this situation is.

“Can I think about it?” You look down at your hands. “The rational part of my brain knows what you’re saying. The other part just doesn’t know up from down right now. I didn’t even think I would leave. I never thought I would leave. Can I just have time?”

“Of course, dorogaya.” Natasha says softly.

“You must think I’m stupid.”

“I don’t. I could never.” She moves to close the distance between you. She shows you her hands first before bringing them to your face to wipe your tears away. “None of this is your fault. None of it.” She presses a kiss against your forehead.

“Thank you,” You sigh. Kaia chooses that moment to come to stand between you. She presses her palms against each of your legs to step up on the tip of her toes. She looks at you curiously, noticing the sad look on your face. That’s when you’re reminded why you left. Keith puts his hands on her. Making her cry like that? It’s something you can never forget. “Mama’s okay, baby bird.” Kaia pats your arm and you pick her up. She sits on your lap before turning to Natasha.

“Nat, I don’t think I can have another baby,” You say suddenly. “I never really thought I would get pregnant. I... I don’t know if that’s what I want. We never used protection. He didn’t like it. I just… I never thought I would become this person.”

“What are you thinking?” Natasha asks. She’s still so close that you can smell her soap. It smells fresh and clean.

“I don’t know,” You answer truthfully. “I’m not big on abortion. It’s not. I’m not against it but I just. I don’t know if I could do that. Doesn’t he deserve to know?”

“It’s what you choose,” Natasha presses. “No one else’s opinion matters. Not mine. Not Steve’s. Certainly not Keith’s. It’s your body.”

“When I found out I was devastated,” You rub Kaia’s leg as she takes your left hand into hers. “I couldn't help but think now I was going to be stuck forever. Now I was subjecting another kid to his treatments. Now I’m here and I don’t know. I just… I don’t know how I could ever take care of two babies.”

Natasha doesn’t give her opinion. She doesn’t have one worth sharing. She doesn’t think it’s valuable. She can’t have children. The Red Room made sure that wasn’t a problem for her a long time ago. She’s not going to influence you into doing something you’re unsure of. All she can do is support your decision and be there for you..

“Y/n, I think you should do whatever you feel is best for you and your situation,” She starts.

“It’s crazy,” You wipe a tear away before it can leave your eyes. “For years I’ve only had his opinion. I’ve only done what he wants me to. Now I’m here with this big decision and I don’t know what to do.”

“You will learn again,” Natasha rests her hand on your knee. “You will learn.” Her words feel encouraging and soothing. You would learn how to be human again. You would learn how to think for yourself and do the things in life you wanted. These things took time and probably a lot of therapy. Natasha receives a notification from her phone and she reaches across the coffee table to check it. When she unlocks the phone to view the message she’s frowning.

“Dear God,” She mutters.

“What?” You ask curiously.

She presses play on the video sent to her phone. She doesn’t think she should show this to you.

“Natasha, what?” You ask again.

Finally, she turns the phone towards you. It’s a screen recording of a surveillance camera.

“It’s Keith, he’s outside of the tower.” Natasha turns up the audio on her phone.

“The Avengers are aiding in the kidnapping of my baby,” He yells into the street.

Dear God indeed. What was he doing?

[finniestoncrane]

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful day. I've never made a request before, so I really hope that I'm doing it correctly! I was wondering if you could do the Riddler from Gotham and a female reader. A Fluffy Romance one where Ed wants to confess his feelings for the reader, but is a nervous wreck about it because he's worried that she won't return his feelings? I would absolutely love it if you could do this, I love your writing, and thank you for reading my request!

Gotham!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 1k eeeeeee i love shy and nervous eddie!! he is my sweetest softest baby and i am so happy to indulge in this 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: fluff, confessing feelings, two nervous nuggets trying to kiss

Outside of your office door, Ed was practicing his speech. He hadn't thought of it as such, but when he'd asked Lee to look over it, she had suggested it was perhaps a little wordy. And of course, in response, he had scowled, been a little annoyed, and walked off with a quiet 'thank you'. Surely everything he wanted to say to you couldn't be condensed. Surely the fact that he was barely able to silently contain his feelings for you was enough of an indication that it was pointless to even try to be succinct.

Everything had to be perfect. Entertaining, so you knew he was fun. Engaging, so you didn't tune out before the very important bits. Heartfelt, so you could tell he was being genuine and sincere.

All he wanted was a chance. To tell you how much he admired you, how beautiful and capable he thought you were, and to have you agree to let him prove that he was good enough for you, or at the very least, better than any of the other men around the GCPD.

So why was it taking so long for him to knock on your door?

He'd been standing there for almost twenty minutes, wringing his hands, practicing his deep breathing exercises, fiddling with his glasses, anything but raising his hand to the frosted glass panel and actually talking to you.

It was nerves. That was the answer to the question. An obvious answer, too. Anyone could see it by looking at him. His usually tidy hair was dishevelled, his shirt untucked from his brown, corduroy pants, hands trembling, glasses smudged, his nails frayed and chewed to the point where they hurt. His cheeks were bright red, and his forehead was sweating. These were all classic symptoms, and he knew them well. But they would only get worse the longer he stood out there, worrying and overthinking.

Ed raised his hand, reaching it forward to rap the knuckles against the door, when it suddenly burst open. And there you were, about to walk out, bumping into him and then stumbling backwards with an apology.

"Ed! I'm so sorry, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, it's ok. I can see that you're busy, so I'll just-"

"Actually, it's good timing. I was hoping to come and see you. Do you have a minute?"

"Of course! I have plenty of time for you."

You smiled, your own nerves soothed by his kindness. If only you'd had him fifteen minutes ago when you had to put your lunch in the trash, unable to eat because of the butterflies in your stomach. If only you could just find it in you to tell Ed how you felt about him, instead of living in an awkward limbo. But you had resolved to end that today, and now, he was right there in front of you. Never a better time.

"Do you think... could you come into my office? I'd rather this was a private discussion."

"Oh... yes! I actually... if we have time afterwards, and it's appropriate, I have something I'd like to discuss with you, too. Privately."

He had walked over to your desk, standing awkwardly, rocking on the heels of his feet with his hands behind his back. When you had closed the door, you felt the tension, knowing you were alone with him, committed to telling him. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it, so you offered him the floor first.

"In that case, please feel free to tell me what you wanted to talk about. My thing... it can wait, it's not... it's not important."

Ed looked stunned, shocked into a silent stupor as he wondered what he might do next. You'd given him the permission to go ahead and say what he had come there to say, but despite his high intellect, and the hours of practice, he suddenly found himself unable to speak, or to at least form sentences that actually made any sense.

"I uh... well... I-I came to see if, or say, rather... that you, well, I really... I-if I... could perhaps... The thing is... You're a v-very special p-person... to me... to the GCPD, to everyone! And... And I wondered if you wanted... if you w-would ever want... with, uh... Just..."

He licked his lips nervously, wetting them as he tried to form more words. You waited patiently, smiling softly as you realised that Ed might just be there for the exact same reason you were. It was hard not to interrupt him, but you wanted to see if you were right, and you wanted to puthim out of his misery as he fumbled over his words and began sweating, glasses steaming up and clouding his vision.

"... because I really d-do think you're... beautiful... is that inappropriate? I, uh, apologise if it is b-but I just had to ask if... uh... i-if... if-"

"Would you like to go on a date with me, Ed?"

Stopped in his tracks, Ed's eyes widened and his lips parted in a small gasp of surprise and relief.

"Of course!"

He cleared his throat, trying to settle his voice back to its regular register.

"Ahem... Of course I would. Would you?"

Leaning in to him, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just a moment longer than was expected before you pulled back.

"Absolutely. Shall we say tonight, after work?"

"Uh... yes. Yes!"

You smiled, turning to go back to your desk.

"W-wait, don't you... didn't you need something from me?"

"Oh! I've got it now, thanks."

He nodded, flustered, a big grin pushing his cheeks into his eyes as he turned to leave your office, abstaining from giggling and punching the air until he was sure you wouldn't be able to catch him celebrating.