#but like if I for some reason weren't wearing socks until I needed shoes I would still do sock-sock-shoe-shoe in case I'm interrupted

[some-teeth-in-a-trench-coat]

I think an important sub-question is whether you wear shoes indoors because I imagine that's a significant factor in whether sock-shoe-sock-shoe is even viable because I too wear my socks long before I even look at my shoes

I’m having a spirited debate and need a larger sample size

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ epilogue || there are weirder ways to learn about each other (🎂)

Admittedly, reading that text, you fumbled your phone remembering the short time limit.

Your pulse quickened as soon as you did, though. And instead of acknowledging the prevalent gong that struck in your chest, you knew by just a glance of the clock and the blaring concession that you were still in your pajamas after getting home that you were pretty much screwed.

The message glared at you bluntly. You scrambled to your feet with the finesse and charm of a terrified deer. Clothes, socks, shoes, for some reason while you were searching for everything you were wearing, they didn't fit as snugly as before. You were also putting them on entirely wrong, in theory too, but you weren't thinking about that too much at the moment. Everything you did need was scattered in complete disarray, and your brain continued to move too fast to remember where you even left anything in the first place.

You hissed in mild defeat, dropping to your knees to snatch just the plain sweater you were wearing and hiding your pajama shirt that said 'Certified Almond Lover' on the front.

A strangled laugh escaped you, half-amusement, half-panic that this was happening again. You were getting deja vu despite not having lived through this for the absolute longest time, and for some reason, it flooded your soul with an intoxicating, more interesting rush of life. A torrent of the evocations you had yet to revisit now that you brought the memorabilia to the front of the house and cleaned up everything else.

By the time you burst outside, his car was already in the driveway, where he stood there, scrolling through his phone in the frosting air. Even standing in place, he seemed so unbothered, the biting winter failing to even faze him. A dark scarf loose around his neck as his strands of hair brushed over his cheeks in the light gales. The sheer image of him was making the mess of your chest come to a complete stop.

Your breath was puffing out the chills of the atmosphere by the time you bolted down the front steps, the sight of your ex-boyfriend giving you a different type of chills. His head slowly moved up towards you once aware of a peep, clutching the phone in his hand for a minute, sucking in his cheek.

"Cutting it close, huh?" He asked, his timbre questionably calm and his expression unreadable but for the glistering mirth in his expression, eyes sizing you up for the first time in a while, taking in your, to some degree, untidy appearance. "Did you forget?"

You started toying with the bottom half of your sweater, intentionally oversized as you avoided locking gazes with him. "I...may have lost track of time."

"Mmhm," he replied, clearly unconvinced. He noncommittally slipped his phone in his pocket and took a slow inhale and exhale. "After giving you an hour and a half, I would have thought you'd at least have the thought not to show yourself out in Satoru Gojo pajama pants. In the snow."

Your hands spontaneously flew down to your sweater as you attempted to pull the sweater over your sleepwear, you yanked it further with a small heat crawling up your neck and to your ears. "I...I wasn't planning on you showing up until you were ready. Who knew that you would be ready...right now? I got distracted!"

"Yeah? By what?" He asked, and while his tone wasn't accusatory, it was in the same energy, curious. Unfastened and disconnected in the way that made you feel twelve times more ridiculous.

"Cleaning..?" You sputtered impulsively, looking away.

"Cleaning." He echoed flatly.

Your lips opened and closed like you were trying to find a better excuse, but the actual truth was lingering on the tip of your tongue and fizzling out constantly, not even deniable to how you actually felt. Tidying up wasn't an excuse, rather than a genuine way to cope with you not really feeling like you knew how to distract yourself from the growing bow in your chest. "Too far-fetched?" You asked, a small laugh in the place of inopportune.

He was in a intricate contradiction, whittled, but aerially tender. The turn of his jaw was defined, in a soft capture of your molten irises, it was kind of holding him captive. Staring at you with a vehemence that was on the verge of insufferable. Endless expanse of his contemplations and the feeling billowing beneath the surface. It wasn't loud, or crystal clear; no, it was the kind of typhoon you felt seeing him again at Ei's house for the first time.

Drawing you in again, his lashes were dark and fine, firming his optics with a featheriness belying their polish. Like glass, impossible to ignore after a cut, his lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but it was with hesitant composure. "I'm leaving."

Your shoulders dropped at him, disappointed that this was the news he decided to bring along to your house, but you didn't falter this time. Your heart skipped a beat, not having much of a useful answer right away. At least, not one you wanted to say aloud. "So I've heard," you sighed, breaking eye contact again. "You didn't have to visit. I know you're busy."

His hands disappeared in his coat pockets once he started discerning the frigidness. His breath was visible between you two as he scoffed. "We're past being selfless.” He muttered, but there was no real heat in his voice. If anything, he sounded tired.

“Well, calling sounds a lot better when you’re under pressure, and a tour sounds like a hard swallow.” You swallowed hard and thick, voice quieter now. “I don’t want you to do any catering, you know what you need to do, and so do I.”

"I wanted to see you.” He snarked half-heartedly.

Your stomach twisted, it was the simplicity of his words that got you, and you forced another shaky laugh to ebb the rest of your tenseness. “Okay…” You said, a lot more disjointed than intended.

He leaned in slowly, the change in his stance creating flimsiness within the distance. He carefully dismantled it, his existence alone was pressing into you, pulling you into an ellipse without ever laying a finger on you. His face hovered closer, head tipping slightly to memorize you, study your new movements and practices now that you were…unfamiliar.

“Okay?” His voice was low, pulling you much like the sinewy drifts you felt in your stomach. Faint scent of his light trace, testing the heft of his words with a lace.

While your gaze darts away involuntarily consistent, Kuni didn’t let you escape so easily. He moved nearer to you, chin aslant downwards, chasing your expression with little purpose other than to get some sort of rise out of you.

As a small and teasing smile graced his lips, the sound of your own pulse was beating in his ears as you slowly lifted your eyes back to his. It was near impossible to ignore him like this— the same person who you were entirely head over heels for. And in a sense, you felt like you still were.

“There you are.” He said, more elated while his voice remained silent as the neighborhood they lived in. The corner of his lips twitched…from amusement? Frustration? You couldn’t tell. Even if he hadn’t touched you, it felt a lot like he had his hand on your back, comforting it leisurely. It sent mold shivers down your spine, and a leering heat stroke from how bad you were feeling it.

You bit your lip, “The tour,” you tried to make out, but you were jittery the second you attempted to control yourself. “It’s really tonight?”

He nodded. “Midnight bus.”

You hesitated, your heart dropping to the bottom of your stomach in seconds. It rendered strange to you, even with the current circumstances leading them here. That Kuni would be like this again. “How long?”

Kuni mulled on it, “Three months,” he mulled, tone even. “It depends on how well it goes.”

There was no problem waiting an entire three months to do something, you were usually used to that prospect anyway considering you owned a business at one point, but there was something extremely agitating about this trial of patience in particular.

You couldn’t control it, nor put it to an immediate stop. You were forced to bear the burden of realizing you couldn’t hold back change no matter what you did. Even if it was fluid enough to come back. “You’ll come back, right?” You glanced down at your hands, fidgeting with the sleeves on your sweater.

Almost as if scrutinizing you in silence, he gave way to something gentler in comparison to his usual approach. You didn’t necessarily feel like you were standing on the edge of prejudice these days with him, “I always do.”

Nearing silence was not spoken for, but it wasn’t awkward nor painful to sit in with him this time around. It said words that neither of you could even fathom about yourselves, about the times that have passed. Your chest tightened in expectation still, and you stiffened. “Did you come by just to say that you’d miss me?” Your eyes lit up.

He leaned back ever so slightly, his breath was seeable in comparison to how he was again. He tilted his head just enough for his hair to shift against the angles of his face. His exterior a crack in marble, only showing its light in the right position. “Did you get the message, or did you want to wring it out of me?”

The fervor in your face increased, and you were left to simply say something incoherent under your breath. “I’ll miss you too.”

He caught the sound, but instead of poking at your father, the moment settled. His snarky visibility settling to something soundless, off the record. He wandered over your mannerisms again, your bitten lip, subtle line of tension on your brow, your lips together like they were trying hard to hold something back.

Even if it was just to live vicariously here for one last moment before he was suffering at consistent demands, he considered it worth the time and effort these days. A bigger change than he realized, and all you could do in comeback was twist the fabric of your sweater in bunches under your fingers while attempting to even your breathing.

There was no more shortness of the distance, because it was hardly there anymore. The gap had simmered away, leaving your breath to hitch again after regaining it, stopping mere inches from you. He looked at you again, with that same unafraid look. The look he carried with him while he was telling you off, and the look he’s keep with him now that he was leaving you for a while. His expression reverent, and like a precious gem.

His hands lifted slowly from his sides as the faint hesitation in his motion caught him by surprise. Your cold cheeks were replaced by the somewhat warmth of his touch, his thumb brushed slightly beneath your cheekbone, the metal ring grazing softly on your skin. You leaned into his touch like clockwork, featherlight and stopping every now and then, you were too nervous to look into his eyes even if something was entrancing about it.

He was sure again, with a more dainty unsureness nestled in him. “Is this okay?” He asked, but quiet enough that only you could hear.

You swallowed all the words you were going to say, what you were supposed to now that he wouldn’t be here long. “Yes,” Your voice tremors.

His lips twitched in the smallest guise of a smile. His hands now a ghost of a presence and you were forced to feel the shivers on your spine move up, creating goosebumps like no other. He leaned into slowly, taking your lips in his again. This time, the earth was holding its breath in anticipation, just as you were.

Kuni’s lips were soft, even when there was a determinedness to the way he kissed you. Like he had something else to prove to you that wasn’t just his proudness speaking in his ear. It mattered to him, anyway, it was why his hands never left, it’s why his kisses started to deepen with every retract. A press of his presence, grounding you, setting in your racing heart like the sweetest melody.

Not hurried, nor urgent, just consuming you all the same.

Lips brushing on you, your head in a flurry that was similar to the whisper of winter’s first snowfall. He was merciful, forbearing, fleeting with every second that you took for granted. Time was stretching impossibly long between the two of you, and you were almost at peace to say that this was something you wished you felt again. The adorations of his feathering pecks, he wasn’t afraid to kiss you, but he was yearning.

Love to you was a lot like feeling yearned for. That’s all you ever knew, and it was a feeling you wished many had the pleasure of growing fond of. The feeling making you want to jump into the air in a burst of energy, the lingering patience of your ex-lover remaining in your palm, and you savored it.

When he finally pulled back, a part of Kunikuzushi Raiden didn’t want to let the harrowing future take hold. Drawing back meant he had to leave right now, lips hovering close in a contemplating to keep going, ignoring a schedule. He stood there, memorizing that feeling.

You let him, and instead of embarrassing him once he removed himself from you, watching his eyes flick back open to see your beaming expression, you quietly rubbed at your arm. “I didn’t like that one either.” You broke the silence with a small and unserious utterance, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah, it kind of sucked.”

previous ☆ masterlist

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

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@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

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@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

@feikyuu @tamikahoshiko @kissingkzuha @bbysatoruuu @rvoulte

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@suniika @animeobsessed56 @kamisstufff @samyayaya @scarawiki

@mywillt0live @lxkeeeee @sundays-prince @imnotyizhuo @js-a-silly-little-guy

@dontmindtheevie @mywillt0live @gl00muraaii

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Inspired by this post if you haven’t checked it out go check @resande art out it’s mind blowing how realistic it is

I wasn’t planning on participating in mermay until I seen this amazing peice of art linked above and the ideas started to cloud in. This is a quick one shot/blurb that I put together (: I had a lot of fun doing this and I probably might try writing more stuff out of my comfort zone like this one

The water was pitch black, darker then what Hawkins actual lake looked like. So black, that when Steve looked down into the water it felt like he was still looking up into the sky. The moon reflected off the water, a spitting image of the actual thing. (Which is how Reflections work Stephen) Steve's cold, rubbing his arms around himself as he was stranded in the upside down. That was supposed to be nonexistent, that's what the government had told him and the kids but yet here he was. Which made this whole situation even Stranger. There was no reason for him to be here, nor was there a reason for him to jump into the lake. It was as if he was a puppet to someone's game, his body being controlled by something else. Luring him into the deep end and pulling him down into the dark portal for the second time in his very short life. If he had a dime for every time he had been pulled by another force in this lake, he would have two. A thought that wasn't so comforting to him as he now sat on the side trying to gather himself. Like snapping from a dream he was slowly starting to gain control over his body again. He had been in some form of daze where his body moved by itself, and instead of waking up in his own bed he was waking up exactly where his dream had left off. So many questions to be answered and he doesn't know where to begin.

For one, why had he been out in the middle of the lake by himself in the first place? Going over the last couple hours of his life, he doesn't understand any of the reasons behind any action he done. Pulling a boat, that was coincidentally stranded off to the side set up just for him possibly, into a lake that he still had nightmares about seemed stupid. Something from a horror movie, that he would be yelling at the tv for even trying to normalize. Yet here he was. One of those dumbass characters who did something completely avoidable. He still doesn't understand where the urge to be near the lake yet dive into it had come from. Once again, he hasn't been in huge body of water for years now. Something was wrong, he needed to call a code red but whatever force that had lead him here had made sure to leave him mostly naked and alone. As if this was all planned out. Here he sat with no shoes, no socks and no shirt. Eerily similar to one of the last times he had been in this place. His first plan of action was to find clothes. Something to wear so he wasn't walking around naked in a apocalyptic like world. His survival instincts were heightened but his reflects weren't. It was still a tad difficult gaining control over his own body. Like whatever had pulled the strings to get him here still had a finger on one of the threads, gently strumming the string causing small vibrations to go up and down Steve's back. His whole body was vibrating now that he thought about it.

Though his body wasn't, his mind was staying on high alert. Hyper-vigilant in ways that only a warrior could be. Hearing everything that was currently taking place around him. Which is why when a small splash is heard from the lake he tenses up and try's to squint in the dark. It could easily have been mistaken for a small fish moving in the water, but this was the upside down. When a crack of stick is heard off to his right he's startled, digging his feet into the dirt to make a attempt at pulling himself up on this slight hill. Heart raising, chest heaving as he stumbles back only a few inches. Not that far as his body still felt heavy, like he had been hit with a tranquilizer. He was afraid, alone and if anything happened there was no way he was walking out of it alone. That thought alone raises his anxiety more, and the determination to live for Robin. For Dustin who was close to adult hood, who needed a big brothers guidance to manhood. Not only could he hear everything happening around him, he could feel everything. The cool and sharp edges of rocks digging into his feet creating small painful cuts on his heels and toes to the uncomfortable way he was sitting on the ground.

Feeling so much at once that he doesn't even react to the slight pain he felt through out his body. He doesn't even think about the numerous infections he could possibly get as the water from the lake moves at its own free will. Splashing up and hitting his feet. Sending a shiver up his body again. His blood mixing into the dark water, so dark that he couldn't even see the red turn to a light pink as it mixes in with what was normally clear liquid. Images of blood rinsing from his body, becoming clouded in his bath water is what triggers him into action. Coming up with a plan. His own personal Eureka as he remembers that this was just a flipped version of his Hawkins. He needed to get to the Harrington residence to get clothes on his body. Without them he would only grow colder, become sick and it would only slow him down. Letting anything to come out and eat him alive. He needed to stay alive, not for himself but for Dustin and Robin who were most likely freaking out about him. And if they weren't now, they would be soon when they discovered his empty house.

That thought along gives him the motivation to stumble up onto his feet, gaining some control over his body and over his mind. Pulling a hand through his damp hair as he looks out at the lake, never moving his eyes away from it. That gut feeling telling him that he shouldn't turn his back to it. Something was out there, lurking and waiting for him to let his guard down. Moving forward he quickly tries to rinse his feet off in the water, not liking the grimy feeling of dirt and stones between his toes. But it was no use, the dirt and rocks would stick back to his skin again irritating him more then it probably should have. Completely irrational compared to the situation he was in. Not even thinking about how his blood was mixing into the water, oblivious to what lurked in the water. Sensing something there, but unsure of what. He's stepping back after a moment beginning to work his way up the small path. Walking backwards up a hill wasn't easy, but there was definitely something watching him from the water.

Steve begins to wipe the sweat and dirt from his grimy face before crossing his arms around the middle part of his body again. Shaking, as his teeth shattered from the uncomfortable bite that the cold air left on his skin. Part way up the hill as he doesn't move his eyes away from the water. Not afraid of what possibly could be behind him, but about what could be in front of him. Then he stops again. Unsure why, until he hears the loud splashing of water again. Once again he can't see what was causing it, and he doesn't care to find out as he quickly turns on his heel in a attempt to run up the hill. Cutting his feet up only more as he trips over a tree branch that stuck out. As if it just appeared out of thin air. Falling forward with a loud grunt, he lands on his hands and knees. Scraping both up pretty good with a loud groan. He moves trying to get up again but he has no control over his body again, staying frozen in that specific position.  Inside, he was mentally kicking himself in the ass. How did he let himself get so rusty, it had only been three years since they defeated Vecna. Three short and amazing years growing closer to the next decade. A fresh start, and hopes of not having any supernatural occurrences happening. But what ever was going on right now, seemed to have something else in mind.

He can hear something moving out of the water, the way the dirt and earth sound as if something was sliding up the ground. Like a snake. Steve can't even close his eyes from fear. All confidence of surviving this disappearing as he feels parts of his body shake from fear. In the back of his mind it was a little bit of a relief to have some control. Forcing his head to look over his shoulder, eyes wide as whatever that was forcing him to stay in place wanted his head to look forward. He try's to move as his heart starts to race faster. Seeing a glimpse of a tail moving around on the ground. Scale like, reminding him of a snake but yet not quite the same. Taking a shaky gasp he forces his limbs to move. Trying to get past whatever mental block that was holding him back. Failing once again, feeling the creature lurking closer. At a last attempt of survival Steve try’s to tune his brain into a random music station, that happened to have his favorite song. Though, he couldn’t decide in that moment and he ends up imagining that he was listening to the beginning cords of whatever song Dustin played nonstop. Some Black Sabbath song, as he feels it working a bit. Feeling the creature stopping where ever it laid as Steve takes a gasp of breath pushing himself up forward. Pants falling down his hips a but as his curiosity gets the best of him and he’s looking behind himself and seeing exactly what was coming towards him.

His face pales as he recognizes who it was. The brown curls and matching brown eyes that had left a stain on him for years. Steve stumbles back, falling on his ass as he accepts his fate. Shivering as the cold eats through him more. His arms falling back and hitting one of the vines that he had made a attempt at not touching. No words are said between the two, the other seemed to be equally in shock. His ears were not normal, similar to that of bat wings, his hair was wet and way longer then what Steve remembered it being, pink scars were over his skin wrapping around his arms and chest. Even though he was supposed to be some form of monster, he was beautiful. A loud noise cracks in the sky, both of them coming down from the shock as a vine wraps itself around Steve. Wrapping itself around his waist knocking the wind out of him as his eyes grow wide with fear. A chocked scream leaving him as he’s tugged away, cuts going up and down his back as Eddie reaches out for him. Hand moving and successfully grabbing at his angle. Skin on slimy skin as Steve’s eyes roll back in his head as he’s seeing images transferring into his head. They all go by so fast he can’t catch much before he’s opening his eyes again under water. Forcing himself up for air as water fall down his skin panting, gasping for air as he’s once again soaked in what looks to be his own bathtub. Alone. Shower curtain wide open as he felt tripped out. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he didn’t like it.

Moving, he carefully moves out of the water, that was black and not clear. Lake water. He wipes his face off as he stumbles back, letting his brain come back to as he quickly pushes himself to get to his room. Taking less then five seconds to toss on whatever he found first. Slipping dry clothes on, that he was sure would only get wet at some point. He freezes as he hears something. From outside a hideous laugh echos through the night. Unsure of what, and not wanting to know he quickly scurry’s to find a hiding spot. Passing the bathroom again, only to get pulled back in by a long scaly tail. A attempt at screaming failing as the tail wraps around him completely, part of it muffling his scream as it goes around his mouth. Pulling him into the bathroom aggressively. As predicted, the dry clothes don’t last long as he’s dumped back into a bath tub. A hand moving to close the shower curtain to close it quickly with a whoosh. Steve’s shaking from the cold as he quickly makes a attempt at not looking at the bloody hand prints on the curtain. Moving his eyes to look at who had him. Eddies eyes are staring back at him, wide and curious.

Unraveling his tail from Steve’s mouth he quickly replaces it with his hand. “She can’t get us if we are in water.” He says gently, as if that made any sense. Steve frowns confused as he feels the others tail moving around the water. Starting to wrap itself around Steve, who begins to feel the warmth. Relaxing as his shaky breath calms down a bit. Fear written in his eyes as he try’s to ask anything. Try to gather more of a understanding. “I’m so sorry Steve, normally it’s just a wolf or some animal that I lure down here. This has never happened before.” Eddies eyes are filling with tears as his face goes a bit pink. Steve’s more confused, nothing making sense as he feels something coming towards them. Moving as he feels the others hand back on his face. Images going through his head again, eyes rolled back as everything is explained to him. Taking a shaky breath as he comes down from whatever that was he realizes he’s wrapped around the other. Who seemed relax about the whole situation. Though that quickly changes as a loud voice booms from downstairs.

“You plan on hiding forever Harrington!” The voice is eerily familiar, he’s about to ask who but once again Eddie shows him. Shows him the slightly red hair, the bloody face of Barb, who had been assumed to have drowned in his pool. Shaking with more fear he looks at Eddie with even wider eyes as he doesn’t let himself let go of Eddie. He has always been a grabber when he was terrified, especially during horror movies. The other doesn’t seem to mind once again, and instead moves burying his face into his chest instead.

“Don’t worry Stevie, I’ll get you out of here.”

[wishing-stones]

Hewwo :3

I was reading R&R and S&M and A&E and I was noticing that Nightmare has reasonable but firm expectations about how people should act in public parts of the castle. In their own rooms it’s kindof whatever (like how Dust destroys his personal room when he has an LV attack but everyone helps with Dish Duty in the kitchen)

So in R&R and in your associated works, what’s the Public Spaces Dress Code? No shoes on the nice carpet? Torsos need to be covered at all times? I mean prior to Ren it’s just SkeleGuys so theoretically they could all run around shirtless without showing off anything untoward but I kindof get the feeling that Nightmare Has Standards so… what are your thoughts about the Head-Shoulders-Knees-&-Toes Dress Code while in the R&R castle?

This is absolutely hilarious.

Nightmare does expect a certain level of decorum if they're going to be in a place where they might be seen by others. (Him, specifically.)

I included a throwaway line about the quarantine bathroom, I think, in chapter 21. Dust was not allowed in the rest of the castle until he and his clothing weren't dripping mud everywhere, so that's one of the hardline rules; do not track mud, blood, muck, dust, or viscera anywhere in the castle, or you will be cleaning it up yourself.

Other "dress code" rules include: -Must have at least shorts on in public areas. No one gives a hoot if you're shirtless, but pelvises are... still kind of an intimate area, even if there's no magic present. -If your shoes are dirty, don't wear them on carpet, hallway runners included. The castle might largely clean itself, but it's not instantaneous. Nightmare likes to keep a tidy environment. -No hats at the dinner table. Hoods are fine, since Dust prefers to keep his up. (Killer... has some hats he occasionally wears. None of them are especially flattering except for the newsboy hat.) -Do not walk around in just your socks. The castle has loads of hardwood and tilework, so that's begging to slip and split your skull open. (Not to mention the unknown nature of monster society and socks being intimate.) -Wear reasonable clothing. Shorts are fine. If you're in some ridiculous getup (Killer specifically has a hot dog costume he pilfered from some surface world during Halloween, and Axe has one of those inflatable dino-riding costumes) and he catches you, what happens to you is your own fault.

There are other rules regarding what can and cannot be done in public spaces (doubly so when a human comes along) so doing anything... intimate somewhere that they might get walked in on is... a very dangerous game. (I either wrote or eluded to something happening on a couch, and Nightmare finding out about it and insisting that both parties clean the entire room top to bottom because they know better. Cannot for the life of me remember where I put it. I wanna say it involved Cross?)

He doesn't expect a lot of decorum from his gaggle of idiots, but he does expect them to be respectful of common areas and those who may also inhabit them.

[ghoul333]

serial lover

chapter one(?)

pairing: billy x f!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.

warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)

a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.

A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.

And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.

Only you weren't.

Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.

Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.

He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.

You were crying in the mirror.

Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.

He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.

Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.

You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.

—

You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.

Was that believable?  I think so.

A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.

Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.

You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.

He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.

You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.

If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.

Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.

You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.

You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.

Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.

Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.

He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?

He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.

There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.

He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.

You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.

He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.

It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?

You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.

Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.

Where did that adrenaline come from?

Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.

He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.

"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?

Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?

You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.

He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.

Fuck.

You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.

You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.

"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.

People like him deserved death.

You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.

You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.

"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."

His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.

He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.

You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.

I fucked up.

Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.

You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.

Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.

Breathing had never felt so good.

Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.

Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.

You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.

It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.

Oh shit...It can't be.

Was this, The Ghostface?

From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?

You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.

It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.

Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.

You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.

His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.

Tough shit.

You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.

You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.

You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.

"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.

Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.

You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.

His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.

A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.

“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.

[efyra]

Bubble Bath • Fred Weasley

pairing: dad!fred weasley x mom!reader

summary: after an exhausting day at work, fred comes back home to his wonderful family.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: fluff (?); mentions of sex.

author’s note: i had a dream about having kids with fred and this idea came into my mind - so i just had to write it?

like always, i’m sorry for any grammar mistake 🥺

reblogs are always welcome

you can check my other works here

The first time Fred Weasley thought "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life" - which he could remember - was in a summer of 1985 when Bill and Charlie taught him and George how to play Exploding Snap. The second was when he started his studies at Hogwarts in September 1989. The third was the following year when he and George were accepted into the Gryffindor’s Quidditch team as beaters. The fourth time was on a winter's afternoon in 1993 when he had his first kiss. The fifth was when the dream of opening a joke shop with his twin had become even closer to reality after Harry gave them the Triwizard Tournament prize. The sixth was in a 1995 night when he lost his virginity. The seventh time was the day Weasley's Wizard Wheezes opened at Diagon Alley in 1996. The eighth was in May 1998 with the defeat of Lord Voldemort. The ninth was when he met you on a spring morning in 2001. The tenth time was when you agreed to go on a date with him a few days later. And since then, Fred Weasley had lost the count. 

But he remembered the most special days. 

The day you kissed. The first night you spent together. The lunch his mother prepared at the Burrow so that you could be introduced to the Weasley family. When you finally said "I love you" to each other. That afternoon you agreed to have a picnic, but you didn't check if it would rain and came home soaked. The next morning that Fred woke up sick and you made him some soup. The time you two couldn't sleep then you stayed up all night talking while drinking hot chocolate. When Fred asked you to marry him on the first day of a new year. That summer day in 2004 when you and Fred said "I do" and made a vow to love each other for all eternity. The dinner where you revealed that you were pregnant with your first child together. The day Maeve Weasley was born and your world had changed completely. And since then, Fred Weasley went to sleep every day thinking, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life." 

He was enchanted with every little moment. 

Fred was thrilled the moment he hold Maeve for the first time and nested her in his arms; he pressed a delicate kiss on her forehead, feeling that newborn baby smell and watching her sleep peacefully, finally realizing that she was his baby - his baby to care for, to protect, to love; his daughter. 

He remembered the first time Maeve opened a toothless smile, that she babbled something in the baby’s language, when she ate solid food when she was six-months-old and ended up with banana puree - made by mommy - all over her face, the way she clapped her hands when she heard Hermione singing muggle’s nursery rhymes, when she took her first steps two weeks after her one-year birthday. Fred was not ashamed to admit that he cried when Maeve first called him "Daddy", that he got emotional every time she lay on his chest and fell asleep there as if it was the most comfortable place in the world, of how he couldn't stop smiling silly while watching her dance "head, shoulders, knees and toes". Since Maeve was born, Fred Weasley thought he couldn't be happier. 

But you got pregnant again; and in 2008, Alexander Weasley was born - better known as "lil’ Alex". 

And Fred was, once again, in heaven. 

Just like happened with Maeve, he was enchanted by his son from the moment he heard that little weeping for the first time; he couldn't help but be amazed to see that the e/c color of your irises were reflected in Alex's eyes, that his nose was very similar to his father's and that he had much more hair than his sister when she was born - and once again, he had fallen in love with that newborn baby smell. 

Fred's heart melted completely when he saw the scene of you in bed holding Alex in your arms while Maeve was sitting next to you, her neck stretching so she could see her little brother more closely; he opened a broad smile with that vision, the vision of his family - his to care for, to protect, to love, his family.

That day, Fred sat next to you on the bed, taking Maeve on his lap and placing his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his body; he remembered the way you looked at him with a tender smile decorating your face and said: "you and I make beautiful babies," but before he could answer, Maeve exclaimed: "but Alex looks like smashed potato!”.  Fred used his free hand to tickle his daughter briefly, who let out an angelic laugh and squirmed in his arms, saying: "not the tickle monster, Daddy!", he laughed once again, kissing Maeve's fluffy cheek; his heart seemed to barely fit inside his chest of how much love he felt at that moment. Then, your head rested on his shoulder, Fred turned his head to give you a long kiss on the temple; you, in turn, lifted your face towards your husband, sealing your lips in a very short but passionate kiss - passion for the beautiful family you built together, for the life full of joys that awaited you and without forgetting, of course, the overwhelming passion you still felt for each other. 

It wasn't always easy. 

Despite the joys that fatherhood brought in your lives, conciliating raising your children with your jobs and the marital relationship was something that sometimes you failed at. Sometimes you fought for silly reasons, other times for more serious issues, but you never forgot that in the first place you loved each other. 

The worst fight you and Fred had was when the two of you were facing difficulties at work, and without even noticing it, you started to take your frustrations out on each other; you both spent a whole day not talking - just talking about your children - but in the late afternoon, when you and the redhead were distracted with work matters while Maeve and Alex were playing in the middle of the  living room, your daughter shouted cheerfully: "Mom, Dad, look! Alex likes when I dance!", the two of you immediately dropped the papers you were reading and watched the scene before your eyes: Maeve - with 3 years-old - was making extravagant ballet moves and Alex - who had just completed 8 months - was sitting on the fuzzy carpet, applauding his sister with a smile of few teeth decorating his face. At that moment, your eyes met with Fred's, and as if you were having a mental conversation, you two agreed: "No work in this world was more important than this: Maeve dancing ballet while Alex applauded". When the children slept, you had a long talk and made up in the best possible way: in bed. 

And you were fine. Better than just fine; you and Fred were happy with the life you built together. And even if some days weren't so good, the redhead would still sleep thinking that he had lived the happiest day of his life because it was one more day by your side while raising your children together, because it was one more day with his family. 

Today, Fred felt exhausted; he and George stayed until later at the shop because they needed to make an inventory of their products, and even though they had several employees so they didn't need to overload themselves with work, that task was something they didn't trust anyone else to do but each other. 

As soon as he arrived at his home through Floo Network, Fred was surprised that there was nobody in the living room and that no three-years-old girl jumped on his arms saying: "Daddy, Daddy, you're home!", but he heard laughter coming from the upper floor. He took off his shoes and socks, leaving them in the corner, and went upstairs; Fred followed that familiar sound and stopped in front of the bathroom suite you two shared, which was with the door ajar. 

For a moment, he allowed himself to watch the scene: inside of a huge white ceramic bathtub, were his wonderful children and sitting on a stool right next to it while holding Alex - who had already completed one year old - with both hands, you were wearing only a simple t-shirt and cotton shorts, your hair was in a tight bun on the top of your head; you were laughing while looking at Maeve, who was pretending to be a fish and imitating Dory's line in "Finding Nemo" when was speaking whale - you two really thanked Hermione for all the childish entertainment she introduced to you over the years -; the little girl was talking to Alex - who was supposed to be the whale.

"Ah, so you’re there" Fred said with a broad smile on his face; Maeve exclaimed an excited "daddy", splashing drops of water on all directions when she jumped. "I thought I was abandoned" he joked, walking towards the bathtub, and squatting close to where you were. "Hi, baby."

"Hi, love" you answered, smiling sweetly and leaning slightly towards your husband so you can greet him with a peck on the lips. 

Fred also greeted his children, saying tenderly: "Hi, little princess. Hi, little prince"; you two chatted distractedly while watching your children play in the bathtub - Maeve still pretended to be a fish and Alex played with a rubber duck. 

"How was your day?" he asked. 

"Normal" you shrugged. "Nothing new, which is a relief." 

"That's good. And how are our little angels?" 

"They've had dinner, played a lot and now they're taking a bath to go to bed. Did you have dinner?" 

"Yes, I ate something at the shop with George." Fred placed a hand on your knee, squeezing it gently. "I'm sorry for staying..."

"Don't apologize" you interrupted him. Your husband had never helped you to take care of the children; he had never helped you because that was his job too - he wasn’t “helping” you; he was taking care of his kids. Fred never expected compliments or medals for putting his children on bed, for giving them food, for waking up in the middle of the night when they were crying or for changing diapers; he knew that those were his responsibilities as much as they were yours. "I know" you sent him a reassuring smile. Days like this when you and Fred didn't do those things together were very rare - after all, you were partners for life. 

"Thank you" your husband smiled.

"And what about your day? Could you finish the inventory?" you asked. 

He let out a tired sigh, watching Alex chewing on the rubber duck. "Well... yes, but not everything. I still need..." 

"Daddy!" Maeve demanded his attention, interrupting him. "Look what I can do!" she said before immersing her head in the water for a short second before pulling it up again, her hair sticking to her cheeks as she wiped the water off her face. "See?" she opened her eyes and looked at her father, waiting for his answer. 

The redhead didn't take long to react, quickly applauding enthusiastically. "Wow, princess! You truly are a little fish! Did you see her, Mommy?" he looked at you. 

"I did, Daddy!" you smiled. "Our little Maeve already is a big girl!" 

Fred got rid of his jacket and tie, rolled up his sleeves to his elbow and sat on the bathroom floor, standing next to the bathtub as he listened intently to his daughter tell him about her fun day with Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arthur; Maeve said that Uncle Harry and Ginny showed up for a visit, so she played with her cousins all afternoon - she was asleep when you arrived at the Burrow right after work, but Alex was very agitated. 

You both took the opportunity that the little girl was very distracted and started to give your children a bath; you were soaping Alex's body while Fred washed Maeve's hair. He took the handheld shower and used it to rinse the shampoo, being careful to not let the foam fall in her eyes or ear. So, you two changed; now, you washed Maeve's body while Fred poured the baby shampoo on Alex's hair. Your husband stayed on his knees, leaning over the bathtub to hold his son firmly with one arm while using the other to give him a bath; the one-year-old was still very focused on chewing the rubber duck. 

Fred laughed. "You really like this toy, don't you, big boy?" he said to his son, who looked at his direction with his big e/c eyes. "This lil' duck is tasty, isn't it?" he said in a higher pitch and musical tone. Alex pushed the rubber toy away from his mouth just to laugh at his father, bouncing in his arms. "Yeah, you like it," the redhead smiled. "Maybe you can tell Grandpa Arthur what is the function of these rubber ducks, huh?"

You were washing Maeve's armpits when you heard the sound of your son laughing; you looked at that direction and a broad smile appeared on your face as you watched Fred talking to Alex about his toy. Then, your daughter also laughed. 

"Mommy!" she said between laughs. "You're tickling me!" 

"I'm sorry, honey," you said with a smile, pulling the little girl close so you could give her a kiss on the cheek. 

Minutes later, the children were properly dressed in their pajamas and Fred went to take a bath. And the scene he found when he returned to his room was even more adorable than the one in the bathroom: you were with your back against the headboard and, on each arm, you nested Maeve and Alex while singing them a lullaby as they were drinking hot milk from their bottle. 

His daughter was the one who saw him leaning against the door, she demanded that he come to bed with you, and as soon as Fred did, Maeve left her position to lay her head on her father's chest - now you and Fred were lying on the edge of the bed and your children in the middle of you two. 

"Daddy, can you tell us a story?" the little girl asked. 

"I don't know, honey," he said. "Mommy was singing."

"But the song's over, isn't it, Mommy?" your daughter looked at you. 

"Yes, dear" you nodded, opening a little smile. 

"Will you, Daddy? Please?" Maeve made a pout. "Alex also wants you to tell us a story," she looked at her little brother, who was almost asleep on his mother's arms. "Yes, Daddy, tell us a story," she said in a soft tone - as if it was the little boy talking - "see? He wants it too!" 

You both laughed at your daughter's little trick. "Well, Daddy, it seems they want you to tell us a story," you shrugged, still with a smile on your face. 

"How can I deny a request from the three loves of my life, huh?" Fred smiled, squeezing Maeve in his arms and giving her a kiss on the forehead. 

You listened carefully as your husband told the story of two fire-haired brothers who fought against a terrible one-eyed monster and managed to obtain a precious magical item: a map that led them to various adventures around the world. And when the two brothers discovered how to get to the Candy Land, you and Fred noticed that your children were already deeply asleep in your arms. 

You both shared a look and a smile. A passionate look at the love that existed in your family. A proud smile for the life you had together. 

"I love you" your husband whispered at you.

"I love you too" you whispered back. 

And before Fred fell asleep, he thought, "bloody hell, this must be the happiest day of my life."

taglist: @eunoia-kth

[hexpea]

Ch. 8 - Moving

⚠️NSFW BELOW⚠️

As soon as dinner was over, you flitted back to your room as quickly as possible. You just wanted to escape any more conversation with your father. You curled up on your bed and brought out your phone, the glowing light a bit too close to your face as usual as you laid in the growing darkness. Just as you unlocked your phone you noticed a notification from your fabricated boyfriend:

𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜 In the quiet alone of your room, you allowed your heart to flutter just a bit to the pet name. You slept with him for a reason, you thought, no need to shy away from the fact that he is hot.

𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝... You texted back, hoping he'd get the subtle hostility toward calling you pet names.

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝😉

𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚝. While you weren't necessarily opposed on the inside, you didn't want to give him the gratification of knowing you'd willingly sleep with him again. For all you cared, that last time at the restaurant was it. As soon as this jig was up, you'd be able to part ways and never see one another again.

𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚒 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍? 𝚐𝚎𝚎𝚣

𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎 You gave in. He just had to guilt trip you.

After just a few moments, he had warped to your room. He didn't like to admit it, but the constant warping to such a far distance tired him out - especially doing it so much lately. It consumed quite a bit of cursed energy. He was lucky to have not run into any curses or curse users to need his technique at one hundred percent.

"What are you doing in the dark?" He noted, looking around as you slowly sat up.

"I'm just relaxing," you answered literally, now sitting cross-legged on your mattress. He joined by just sitting on the edge of your bed, body turned toward you. The only thing you could see in the dark was his white hair.

You used your phone to turn on the lights, the bulbs in your room those smart lights that could be controlled remotely. As soon as you could see, the first thing you noticed was how comfy he looked just wearing a cotton t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He even neglected to wear shoes, opting for just socks. You didn't blame him. If he can just warp wherever, why bother?

"So, about our little...situation," he started, "I was thinking about some things."

"Oh really?" You lifted your brow in curiosity. "I have also been thinking about some things. Do tell."

"I ran into Yaga today while picking up Megumi, this kid I live with," you wanted badly to ask what kid, but let him continue, "and I guess your grandfather was calling him repeatedly to complain about me!" He chuckled.

"Wow, good job, I guess," you laughed with him, "the outcome is coming up swell."

"Right! And, well, Megumi continued asking about you..." he scratched the back of his head, whatever he was about to say was difficult for him. "And, I mean, we told everyone that we've been dating for two years. That's..."

"A long time," you finished for him. "My dad brought that up at dinner tonight, wondering why we haven't moved in together already since my company is based in Tokyo."

"Wow, okay, so then what I'm about to say won't be weird!" He smiled wide.

"That depends," you narrowed your vision, waiting impatiently for him to continue.

"Do you want to live with me?" He asked, pressing his thumbs to his chest - that big grin still present. You froze for a moment, processing what he said. "I mean, we can still be platonic if you'd like. I guess we'd have to share a room until Megumi moves out in March, but from there you can just take his room and we'll call it the guest room."

"That's taking things pretty far, isn't it?" You questioned. "Aren't we supposed to 'break up' eventually?"

"Sure, but we've got to make things convincing, right?" He laughed nervously, putting his hands back in his lap.

"That's pretty damn convincing," you smiled, still not thinking he was serious.

"Exactly! You're catching on!" Gojo exclaimed proudly. "I mean, will your job be a problem? Like, will they transfer you willingly?"

"I don't see why there'd be a problem..." you trailed off, a shocked expression on your face as you realized he was being serious.

"Cool, do you...want to stay over tonight?" He asked nonchalantly. "You know, to meet Megumi and just see the place?"

"That...wouldn't hurt," you found yourself agreeing.

Gojo then brought you to a stand, smiling cockily as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close - which was totally unnecessary for his technique to work.

"Hey, I need to..." you began to protest but it was too late. Within seconds you had warped. "...Change..."

Within seconds, you found yourself standing in the middle of a large living room, floor to ceiling windows with a great view of Tokyo. Your jaw dropped at the glistening lights, feeling Gojo's hands slither away from your waist - his body heat leaving as he meandered toward the couch where a certain sea urchin-looking individual sat.

"Me-gumi!" Gojo leaned over, elbows resting on the back of the sofa. The boy's head slowly turned, a fatigued look on his face. "This is Y/N!"

Hearing your name caught your attention, turning to see the profile of the teen - the eye you could see turned in your direction. "Hi!" You shyly greeted, feeling silly in your own set of pajamas.

"Hello," the teen greeted slowly before turning his attention back to the television.

"She is going to move in with us!" Gojo informed him. "Of course, that doesn't matter so much seeing as you'll be outta' here in just a few weeks!"

"Yeah," he replied, barely paying attention to his guardian.

"So...why do you have a teenager staying with you?" You asked as Gojo walked back over to you, letting Megumi mind his own business.

"I, uh," he leaned toward you whisper in your ear, "kinda killed his dad."

"Yikes," you leaned away from him as his proximity lingered. "Why?"

"Bad guy, but he whined about his kid before that happened and there he is!"

"How long have you had him here?" You asked, staring at the back of Fushiguro's head.

"Since he was six, he's fifteen now," Gojo said proudly.

"That's eleven years..." you mumbled to yourself, "how old were y-"

"Nineteen!" He answered before you could even finish. "Yep, been dadding ever since."

"Dadding? Alright," you nodded while feeling proud of him, "he doesn't seem messed up, so congratulations on not fucking him up."

"Thank you?" Gojo grimaced, slightly offended. "Anyway, welcome to my humble abode. Which will be your humble abode," he laughed nervously after motioning to the room. "Bedrooms, bathroom down that hall...laundry room in the hall closet..."

"It's a nice place," you glanced around the open concept, "quite the view. You're lucky..."

"We're lucky," he reminded you and placed hand on your shoulder. "Let me show you the rest of it." His hand moved from your shoulder and slowly trailed down until his fingers laced with his. That's right, you remembered, have to keep up this act in front of Megumi.

He gently pulled you down the hallway, letting you steal little glances of the bathroom and even Fushiguro's room before opening the door to the master suite.

"So I guess I'll have to sleep in here with you until Megumi leaves, right?" You looked around the large room.

It had the same gorgeous floor to ceiling windows. The lights were kept dim, a California king at the center of the back wall with what looked to be black Egyptian cotton sheets. The furniture itself was modern and sleek. Hell, if a room could be called sexy...this room was sexy.

"Yeah," he sighed, "I can sleep on the couch here if you don't want to share a bed." He motioned toward the chair that sat against another wall. "Even if it'd be super uncomfortable..." he mumbled to himself, earning a small chuckle out of you.

"Well, if you don't mind then I don't mind," you shrugged. "It's not like we haven't been intimate before."

"Yeah," he gave a single laugh. "That was some night. And that time at the restaurant..." he trailed off to make an "okay" sign with his index and thumb curled into a circle. "Definitely one of the top girls I've been with."

"Really?" You were shocked seeing as the possibility of that number being high was incredibly probable. "Well, I'm flattered...I think."

"Oh yes," he agreed with you, "maybe even the top..." he pondered in what seemed like deep thought. You knew, at least for yourself, that he had to be the top as well - whether you wanted to admit it or not.

You could then sense a shift in the air between the both of you. Your minds were imagining that night at the hotel at the same time, eyes scanning each others' to judge a reaction to the thoughts you were sharing. As always, those blue eyes pierced your very soul from behind his black lenses. You felt your heart rate increase and body temperature rise as images of that night flashed while peering into his neon pools.

"Gojo..." you said quickly, voice a bit high-pitched. Your mouth was incredibly dry, and from the looks of it so was his - a more feral look in his eyes as he stared at your lips.

"Yes?" He asked, gaze unmoving from your mouth. Your wet lips glistened in the light, making them all the more tantalizing.

"C-can we do things?" You felt completely enamored by his presence yet again, voice tiny as your eyes stayed on him like a hawk. His ability to seduce worked quickly, just a mere look in his eyes sent the message straight in-between your legs.

"Can we do things?" He repeated while laughing at your immature response, knowing you were totally lost. "Sure," he agreed, walking over to the door to shut and lock it - not without getting a glare from Fushiguro who was still seated on the sofa in the living room and was able to look down the hallway.

With the door safely closed and locked, Gojo walked back over to you. Your body trembled with excitement, a more confident smile on your face as his hands found your waist. His touch was delicate, veiny hands slowly gripping harder as the seconds passed.

"This one night stand is quickly turning into something else," he mumbled as he leaned down and found your neck while your own hands slithered up around his, one of your hands holding your wrist as you melted toward his body.

"Can't help it..." you slurred out as chills rose against your skin, the nibbling at your neck just the beginning of your body's response to his skill.

His grasp quickly moved to wrap his arms around your body as your pelvis leaned forward against his. Should he let go, you'd lose your balance entirely. You maneuvered your head so he would remove his lips from your neck, your nose quickly sliding past his to lock him into a kiss. Your heart began leaping as your tongue slipped past his lips, your hands coming up the back of his head and gripping the white strands. The sweet taste of his saliva was incredibly intoxicating. You found yourself missing it, realizing the minute his rough tastebuds slid against yours. You whimpered against the taste, feeling your jumping heart move into your throat as his grip on your body tightened.

"So sweet..." he whispered into your lips between kisses. You lightly giggled as you moved to bite his bottom lip as he spoke. He moaned at the pressure of your teeth against his soft flesh. "Naughty girl," he teased, quickly maneuvering you body until he held you bridal style.

He stepped toward the bed and tossed you onto the soft mattress. He wasted no time climbing back on top of you, your hands dipping below his shirt to feel those chiseled abs. He realized exactly what you wanted, leaning back up to rip his shirt off, pulling it from behind his head and tossing it aside along with his glasses. As he was still up, your eyes wandered down his body - thanking whoever was up there for creating gray sweatpants. Not only could you see his erection, but you also spotted a single dot of precum that had soaked into the fabric.

"Are you commando?" You asked cheekily as he was about to come back down to you.

He gave a crooked grin at your question, "are you looking to find out?" You nodded and bit your bottom lip as he fell to the bed beside you.

Excitedly, your fingers laced around the elastic waistband. You carefully pulled them down to find you were correct. His cock, once free, pointed in your direction. He playfully grabbed it and allowed it to fall upward, one hand slowly stroking with the other hand supporting the back of his head. You were almost mesmerized by the way he stroked himself. Your once dry mouth began to water.

"What are you gonna' do about this?" He nodded towards his length expectantly.

Wordlessly, you answered. While seated on your knees between his spread legs, you grasped him at the base of his shaft and placed him on your tongue. The sweet but salty precum spreading across your tastebuds. He gave a sigh of relief as you slid him further down your throat. You ignored the feeling in your legs as they began to fall asleep and focused more on how he filled your mouth. As you worked away, Gojo watched you carefully. One of his hands came down to caress your cheek, the feeling of your warmth calmingly bringing him to a high.

"Come on up, sweetheart," he purred after some time and you quickly obeyed. "Why don't you remove some of those layers?"

You nodded and slowly removed your own t-shirt, crossing your arms in front of your body and tossing it away. Since you were in PJs you hadn't been wearing a bra, you were already giving Gojo the full frontal.

"Beautiful," he whispered, coming up and snatching your body closer to his once more. Your body was practically straddling him.

His kind words made you blush, that and the fact that he had taken one of your breasts to his mouth. His soft tongue pressing circles around your sensitive areola. As he did so, he kicked off what remained of his sweatpants - his hands firmly planted on your ass while yours tangled back into his hair.

Your soft, simple sighs filled the room while Gojo's grip pulsed against your bottom. His thumbs began playing with the waistband, going under until your cheeks were exposed. You slightly lifted your bottom so your pants going fall halfway down your thighs. Just before you were about to sit back down on his waist, one of his hands moved to your sex, fingers expertly sliding between your folds until the first two digits dipped into your wet center. You cried out from the new feeling, pelvis falling back down, trapping his fingers. He looked at your desperate face, eyes closed and jaw slack. His own expression was one of complete concentration and focus. His pace increased, lengthy fingers fluttering faster than a butterfly's wings, hitting that spot each time they pressed into your soft canal. You grasped his shoulders for balance, nails digging into his muscles as your head fell back. A pleasurable soreness filled your lower abdomen, so incredibly similar to needing to use the restroom as you meet your high. Between your sighs, the sound of your increasing wetness filled the room.

"That's it..." he mumbled softly while still watching your face. He has begun to feel you clamp around him. "Cum for me..."

"S-Satoru!" You cried out, grass falling back down into his shoulder as you continued to moan out, his fingers still moving despite your orgasm. "Fuck..." your nails dug even deeper into his flesh.

You began to hear him lowly chuckle as his fingers slowed to a stop. "I like that," he noted as he removed his fingers and slid them on his tongue, taking in your taste. "When you say my name..."

"Yeah?" You giggled, cheeks incredibly blushed. You can't up to meet those blue eyes. "Why don't you make me say it more?"

That was it. The last straw of his sanity. He moved in a flash, tossing your body to the side as of it were paper. He ripped off the rest of your pants and quickly gripped your thighs to pull them to the end of the bed. Both of your bodies were ready and synced, Gojo not even needing to position himself to slip inside. Neither of you caring for protection...again.

A guttural sound fell from his lips as he bottomed out for the first time, his grip on you lightening for just a moment as he became accustomed to your body.

His body fell forward to meet yours as he found a comfortable pace. His hair fell in your face as he came almost nose to nose, the pace he found slow and intimate - as if he were digging into you as far as he could go on purpose. The lust behind his eyes matched yours, your hands coming up to cup his face as you intensely stared into his small pupils. As you both silently whimpered toward each other without breaking eye contact, there came a point where he could no longer hold back. His eyes closed and he came forward, meeting your lips as he continued pressing into you as deep as he possibly could. The slight twinge of pain in your cervix went unnoticed as he kissed away the pain. Despite how far he was going, you were still building a climax. It was coming quickly from your earlier release, all of your nerves practically on standby.

The minute he pulled back was the minute it was too late. His eyes met once more as it happened, small vocal sighs spilling from his lips. You noticed the little flicker in them as your pulsing center began to warm. You were about to panic and scold him but he came down once more, body completely still as he took you in. Your eyes rolled back shut and accepted the kiss, body digging into relaxation.

"Satoru..." you whispered as he pulled away for the last time. Both of your bodies were slick with sweat. You were still cupping his face, eyes slightly crossed as you looked at him so close.

"Hmpf," he smiled sweetly in reference to saying his band, "there it is."

"Satoru..." you said a bit louder with a slight laugh to your voice. "You came in me."

"Oh shit," he laughed and looked down at your connected bodies, "that I did." He pulled out and walked to his dresser where he pulled out a small towel. He leaned forward and began cleaning you, much to your embarrassment. "I think the drug store is still open. I'll go get some prevention."

"Thanks..." you muttered, voice and body shaking as you adjusted to not being fucked. "That was..."

"Amazing?" He smiled as he wiped himself with a different towel. "Yeah..." The thing was, he wasn't saying this to be cocky. He didn't admit it vocally, but something had changed, and you both silently knew it.

[eveenstar]

𝑺𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒔 [𝑨 𝑳𝒐𝒌𝒊 𝑳𝒂𝒖𝒇𝒆𝒚𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏]

||➸𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈: 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭||

Tags/Warnings: Possible amnesia, insomnia and a brief panick attack mentions.

Summary: You wake up back in your bed, with no idea how you got there in the first place. With a foggy mind, you notice that strange things are happening around your house.

Note: Honestly, I've been so excited to write this series. It's going a bit slow in the beginning but I promise from chapter 3 things will began to get serious! Can you guess what is happening in (Y/N)'s home?

Loki knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring, his eyes focused on yours and you felt everything stop around you two.

"Marry me, (Y/N), " Loki said softly, grabbing your hand on his. "You'll never have to be alone,"

You smiled, you smiled as if you didn't remember this never happened. Tears covered your vision but it really wasn't tears, you weren't crying, but everything slowly began to get blurry. You felt yourself fall, as if your own soul left your body and fell into abism. Loki's voice echoed in your mind.

"I love you and that's all I really know."

You woke up in a harsh gasp, hands sweaty. You were met again with a cold house, now dark due to how late in the night it should be. Not even threads of light escaped through the blinds, nor you could recognize where anything in your bedroom should be.

Turning on the bedside lamp, you pushed yourself from the king-size bed and grabbed your forest green robe and dressed it, glad that at least it's somewhat warm.

Wasn't it blue?

The bedside alarm clock read exactly 3:30 AM, and you felt a sudden deja vu. Lately, you've been awaking up at this exact hour of the night, for no other reason than strange dreams.

You decided that a nice cup of milk would suit this situation, as you recalled that your mother used to say that "milk helps the sleep" and even though you doubted that affirmation of hers, anything now would feel better if it meant to help you close your eyes and drift off to another world. Your feet felt cold against the floor tiles, and again you forgot to wear socks (even though you were sure you wore them the day before, for one reason you know couldn't think why).

As you poured the milk down on your plain white mug, it finally accured to you. Yesterday's call with Natasha and the drive trip to the Avengers Tower. You ran a hand through your hair and frowned slightly, everything afterwards felt like a distant memory. Foggy and confusing. How did you end up in your house, in your bed? How did you forget? Probably from the lack of sleep you've been getting lately.

Maybe you should call Natasha.

Ignoring how late it was, you pulled out your phone and noticed it was dead. Sighing to yourself, you put it to charge while you left to explore your house and re-make the steps you probably took when you got home the day before.

Your clothes were all messed up in a chair, your shoes looked like somebody threw them across the room and didn't bother to get them, otherwise everything else looked in place. You paced back and forth, getting a bit impacient at your lack of remembering such things.

The flowers.

The Narcissus flowers.

Where are them?

You grabbed the empty flower vase, which used to be filled every week with beautiful flowers picked from your personal garden. The house withhold a tense atmosphere, heavy as the rain that falls from the dark clouds. The pale-coloured brightness that the kitchen's lamp provided a ball of light around you, like a little angel was protecting you against the darkness and you hoped it not to go away.

Your body was frozen in place, you didn't even realize you weren't breathing until a hrash exhale left your lungs and the flower vase fell from your shaking hands, into the mosaic floor.

You ran to your bedroom as if a big, bad monster was chasing you and quickly closed the door. You blocked it with a chair and turned on your phone, which was fortunately (and the luckiest you've been in a good while, most likely) charged enough to call someone.

"(Y/N)? It's 4 am, are you okay?"

"Something is wrong, Natasha, I, I can't remember anything."

"What do you mean?"

"Can you please come by my house?" You heard her grab something, "Please..." you whispered.

..."And that's when I called Natasha." You finished explaining and took a drink out of the cup of water Steve gave you.

"How long has this been happening?" He asked, a worried look on his blue eyes. Natasha, who was sitting next to him, carried the same look.

"Few days, weeks I suppose." You looked in between both of them, and guilt took over you. "I'm sorry, it's silly."

"Hey, don't say that. It's completely normal." Nat caressed your arm sweetly. It felt good to see her again, even though it was only yesterday when you two met. She looked exactly the same as three years ago, but she had a different aura around her. Sadder, darker. Steve had it too.

"Hey, (Y/N), it may not be the best time but...There's a therapy group I know, and maybe it would be good if you take a look at it." Steve suggested, his arms crossed and a deep look upon you.

You gazed to the ground again, "I'll think about it."

"I just think something's weird here, " Natasha said, "You never ordered Narcissus flowers to your home."

If this was another situation, you'd laugh at it. But Natasha was serious, and you knew it. The Narcissus flowers don't grow in your garden, and you followed a specific order of plants to buy every week, and they weren't in the list. They never were. Not after Loki's death.

"I probably ordered them by mistake." Play it off. Act cool. It's nothing, it has to be just a simple mistake. You got confused and ordered them instead.

"If you feel safer, we can get somebody to protect your house. Just for good measure." Steve took the mugs and cups to the sink, and didn't miss the chance to give another helpful advice like the good friend he is. You pondered on it for a while, and you could enjoy the company.

"Yeah, that'd be nice." Natasha, who was staring at you again, opened her mouth to say anything but you got ahead of her first, "Well, thanks for coming but I need to get a couple of hours of sleep. Sorry for bothering you guys."

"You would never."

You walked them to the front door, and Natasha pulled you in a surprise hug. You didn't even know how to react. It's been so long since you've had human touch.

She pulled back, and you swore you saw a tear in the corner of her eyes. Those tears that come at the most unfortunate moments, where you can't most definitely break down. Natasha hid them well, not from you, because you too know that trick. Never break down, never show weakness to anyone or anything. The woman gave you a calm (but you knew the pain behind it) smile.

"Call us if you need anything else, okay?"

You nodded and replied with a vague smile back.

The hours passed, passed and passed. The clouds in the sky were as heavy as your soul felt, and soon they began to cry out. The rain slammed against your windows and warned about an upcoming thunderstorm was on its way. Spring felt more as a Winter 2.0 and in the blink of an eye, it was eight o'clock.

According to one of Natasha's texts, a security guard would arrive at ten AM. Until then, you prepared a nice breakfast for you (and for the guard, you wanted to be as kind as possible). Thanks to Steve, who brought enough food to last for at least a few days, you didn't have to worry about starving now.

You, relaxed for once in a lifetime, made your way to the couch to hopefully watch some pre-recorded tvshows. You were too lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice how in all framed pictures of yourself, your face was blurred out.

[paradox-psyc-hoe-sis]

New Suits

Peter Parker x reader (but it's not a Peter x reader themed fic), Avengers x teen reader.

Word count: 3.4k

Summary: Y/n Stark and Peter Parker have planned the ultimate movie night together, but something gets in their way.

Warnings: body insecurities, angst I guess, mentions of weight and stretch marks, stuff like that. Both the reader and Peter are 18 years old.

A/n: Hello :) this is way more of an avengers x reader fic rather than a Peter x reader fic, but I needed the reader to be connected to Peter in a certain way so why not! Enjoy, my peeps - Honey

The clock ticked menacingly as you twirled the pencil you were holding between your fingers; last period on a Friday was always history with Mr Smith, and you hated it. Peter sat on the desk next to you and you could tell he was just as bored as you were, tapping his fingers against the polished wood table, staring into space. There were only three minutes left of class, and you were going to stay at Peter and May's apartment overnight to have a movie marathon, you couldn't be any more excited. As soon as the analogue clock on the wall turned to 2:58, you felt a vibration in your pocket and heard Peter's phone 'ding' in his pocket next to you, causing your teacher to turn around with a stern expression.

"I shouldn't have to remind you all of the one classroom rule," Mr Smith barked towards the class, "phones off." Once he turned back to face the whiteboard behind him, Peter turned to you with a confused look. Sneakily taking your phone out of your pocket, you saw a message from Jarvis:

"Happy Hogan is waiting outside for Y/N Stark and Peter Parker."

You silently showed Peter your phone before putting it into your backpack. What could Tony, or the Avengers, possibly want that'd ruin your weekend with Peter?

The bell rang piercingly through the classroom, and you packed up your bag.

"I can't believe we leave school in four months, it's crazy!" Peter started, shoving his textbook into his beige backpack. "One thing I certainly will not miss is this dreadful class." Peter kept his voice quiet, making sure your professor hadn't heard his snarky comment. Laughing, you and Peter walked out of class and down the corridor, towards to main exit.

"Why do you think Tones sent a car for us?" You asked, walking through the large double doors and into the sunlight. Both of you spotted Happy stood next to his car and headed towards the car park. "I haven't got a clue. But I'm sure Mr Stark," Peter emphasized, slightly disapproving of the nickname you gave your dad, "has a perfectly good reason. Besides, we'll probably only be at the tower for a couple of hours, right?" Nodding, you both walked up to the grey Audi.

"Hey Happy." You exclaimed with a smile. Once you all got in and buckled up, you took Peter's hand, and Happy began to drive out of the school grounds. "D'you know why Mr Stark wants us, Happy?" Peter asked, looking out of the window. Sighing, Happy looked into the rearview mirror to see you both. "I don't know." He said, looking back at the busy New York traffic, "Something about a suit update? I've been instructed to drive you both back to May's house at 9pm, so it can't be anything too important." You clenched up at the mention of a suit update, dreading what you were in for tonight.

You thought back to last year, remembering what exactly happened last time you got a new suit. You were quite insecure about your body, always wearing baggy clothes to hide it, but you couldn't always escape the sight of your own figure. To get a new suit, you need to have measurements taken, and the measurements have to be done in your underwear. You weren't fussy about having your measurements taken, as it was usually your dad that did it, but you'd recently been quite stressed about your appearance and weren't in the mood to do anything of the sorts today. Just this once, it didn't help that it was your father taking the measurements, either: you worried that if you became too fat or ugly, he would hate you. Considering you all were one big family, you wouldn't mind Bruce or Natasha doing it instead, so you were ought to ask them if they'd do it this time, to save any unwanted embarrassment in front of your father.

Soon enough, you got to the Avengers tower and headed straight for the common area. There, everybody was sat, waiting for Tony to arrive; Nat, Clint, Bruce, Steve, Sam, Bucky, and Rhodey. Peter sat down on one of the sofas, greeting everyone as he did so, but you stood in the door frame placing your backpack on the floor. "Nat, do you mind if I talk to you for a second?" Everybody turned to you, and Nat nodded with a smile. "Sure." She replied, hopping out of her seat and walking towards you. Nobody else was really phased by you and Natasha always spending time with each other, as you both were the main female avengers, and you saw her as a badass aunt. You began to walk down the hall, Nat to your right, taking slow steps.

"What's the matter, Y/n?" She asked, tucking a stray strand of crimson hair behind her ear. Stopping in the middle of the hall, you turned to face Natasha, a slight blush making its way to your cheeks - there was no easy way to say what was on your mind.

"I know this sounds really odd, but I was wondering if you'd take my measurements later on?" She looked slightly puzzled, but nodded anyway. You knew she'd want to know why, so you explained before she could ask.

"I'm just a little...insecure, that's all. I don't really want Tony judging me or my body, that's all." Her expression turned from puzzled to sympathetic, a slight hint of disappointment in her eyes. Uncomfortable, you looked down and stared at your worn out red converse.

"Y/n, you know your dad would never judge you, for any reason." You looked up at her as she rested a hand on your shoulder. "I'd really like to help you out, but I'm not qualified to take any measurements or information for Tony's work. Bruce helps to make the suits as well, y'know, and I could ask him if he'd do yours?" She spoke gently, stroking the side of your bare shoulder. You nodded, giving Nat a small smile. "That would be really nice. Thank you." Both of turned around and walked back to the common area. Just before you walked through the door, Nat turned to you and spoke. "You'll have to talk to Tony about this, okay? He's the best person to help you on this, and it might be good for you to get it off your chest." Nodding, you walked back into the common area.

You were sat on the grey sofa talking to Bucky when Tony walked in. Natasha quickly told Bruce what was going on when you went back into the common area, and he was happy to help, but you still felt a sense of nervousness like you had betrayed your father. Tony carried a piece of paper and a cup of coffee with him when he walked into the common area, sitting down on a chair.

"As you all know, we're doing new suit measurements and prototypes this afternoon, so you all need to be in the tower until 9." He spoke, talking a long swig of his coffee. "We should get measurements done by 6, and from then I'll need you to stay and give me information about anything new you want in your suits and stuff like that." He waved the sheet of paper he held and looked down to read from it, "This is a schedule that I beg you all to stick by otherwise I will lose my sanity even more than I already have. Clint, you're first to get measurements done in the lab, then you'll be followed by Steve, Sam, Bucky, Rhodey, Pete, Natasha and Y/n last." You swallowed hard when you heard him say your name, and tried not to think about the conversation you'd be having with him later on.

"Bruce and I are gonna go down to the labs now and set up. Clint, we'll need you down in about 10, capiche?" Bruce gave you a small smile before they both headed down to the labs, and with that, they were gone.

You watched as your colleagues left and came back, all indifferent to everything that had happened to them. You sat next to Peter, playing rock paper scissors until he had to go and get his fittings, when you talked to Natasha for a bit. When she was sent down to get her measurements, a wave of anxiety washed over you. You were next, and although you knew your dad wasn't going to see you, you still felt butterflies. Suddenly, Jarvis made an announcement on the speakers. "Miss Stark, Tony and Bruce require your presence in the laboratory."

Sheepishly, you rose from the sofa and said goodbye to whoever had returned from the lab and sat next to you - you hadn't paid attention. Once you got to the lab and opened the door, the only person you saw was Bruce.

"Hey Bruce." He looked up from his computer and smiled at you, rising from his stool.

"Hi y/n. Everything is set up in the next room, go in there and follow what Jarvis says, call me in when you're ready." You didn't reply, but walked to the door on the other side of the lab.

You knew this room all too well; it was the 'personal study' lab. It was more of an empty office than a lab, as it was only double the size of an elevator, but it had a small desk with some stray sheets of paper and pencils on top of it. It was rarely used, but when it was, it was for measurements, fittings, trying on new suits, practically anything that would require privacy. In the centre of the room was a small stool about a foot high. Before you could think anything of it Jarvis piped up;

"Good evening, Miss Stark. Please remove all unnecessary clothing. Do not remove your underwear. Then step onto the stool and await instructions."

Hesitantly, you kicked off your shoes and socks. You pulled your red crop over your head and threw it into the corner of the room, and began unbuttoning your high waisted jeans. You slipped your feat out of the wide leg trousers, leaving yourself in a black t-shirt bra and pants. Sighing, you walked over and stood on the small grey stool, relaxing your shoulders. "Jarvis, tell Dr Banner that I'm ready." You could hear Jarvis speak to Bruce in the lab, and within 10 seconds you hear a knock on the door. You answered, and Bruce walked in, carrying a tape measure and a small piece of paper.

"Are you ready to get started?" He asked, looking up at you. Taking a deep breath, you tried to relax all of your muscles. "Ready as I'll ever be." Bruce set down the piece of paper on the desk and began by measuring your waist, hips, and bust. When he got to your arms, you began to wonder where Tony was.

"How did you convince Tony to let you do my measurements?" You asked, trying to stay as still as possible. Without looking up, Bruce answered.

"I knew he wouldn't buy it if I asked to do only yours, so I did everyone's." He moved the tape measure over to your other arm, briefly jotting down a note on the sheet of paper. "What? You've actually done everyone else's?" He nodded, walking behind you to measure your legs. "It would seem suspicious if I only wanted to take your measurements, and nobody else minded me doing it. I told Tony that he should stay in the lab and start preparing ideas for the suits. He's just gone to make more coffee, that's why he isn't here at the moment. He'll probably be back any minute, though." Nodding, you were plunged back into silence. You didn't mind the awkward silence between you both, as he was family, but you wish you could try and start a conversation to distract you from your worries. Unfortunately, your mind went blank.

Ten minutes later, you were finished, and Bruce told you that you could step down from the stool. Before he left to let you change back into your clothes, he turned around to look at you.

"I know things are tricky, and it's not easy to appreciate yourself, but I just want you to know...we're proud of you. All of us, we love you so much."

You smiled slightly and nodded, and Bruce left.

Once you had out all of your clothes back on, you slowly opened the door back to the lab. There, you saw Bruce typing away at his computer and Tony, sat down at one of the desks, sketching out a suit on a large piece of paper. Tony only noticed you when you were halfway through the lab, and he put down his pencil. "Hey honey, you alright?" He asked, turning his swivel chair to face you. Already uncomfortable by the sight of him, you gave him a quick hug and slowly walked to the exit. "I'm fine, thanks, but I've gotta go for a shower. Talk to you in a bit!" You quickly backed into the corridor and speed walked to the elevator, making your way to the penultimate floor.

The elevator music today was a mix between jazz and swing - a mix that you despised. You took after your father, favouring classic rock over nimby-pimby music like this. When you got to your floor, the doors opened, and you were greeted with your room. Fairy lights and polaroids were strung around your double bed, an array of CD's and books littered across your desks. You were thankful that your room had an en suite, walking into the large bathroom. You ran the water until it was scalding hot, changed out of your clothes, and got in.

You were in the shower for no longer than twenty minutes before you heard, yet again, Jarvis reciting a message to you.

"Miss Stark, Tony is waiting for you in your room."

Groaning, you stopped the water and dried yourself off with a light pink towel. You put on a pair of pyjamas that you had thrown into the bathroom with you, brushed your hair in the mirror, and went back into your room. There, you saw your dad sat on your bed, admiring a CD.

"I'm definitely borrowing this." Tony stated, chucking the Nirvana album he was holding onto the bed.

"What're you doing here?" You asked, plopping yourself on your bed next to him, admiring your father as he scratched at his chin. "Gingey told me you wanted to have a talk, right?" Laughing nervously at the nickname you had coined for Nat when you were only a few years old, you picked at the skin around your fingernails.

"Right. Well, I had a problem, but now it's solved so I'm all good! You should probably go back to the lab now and do some more work." You rushed your words, desperate to get rid of Tony as quick as you could. However, he merely sighed, and sat up straight. He looked at you with an expression that almost literally read "I'm so fucking done with your woke-ass bullshit", which made you feel inferior.

"If you think I'm buying that, then you're definitely not a Stark. Try again, Y/n."

Before he could say another word, you rose from where you were sat. "Y'know, I think I might go and talk to mom about this. It's kind of a girl problem, Pepper will get it. See ya!" You quickly walked to the elevator door, and just as the doors closed behind you, you heard Tony mutter something about Pepper being on a business trip.

Shit.

From the elevator, you jogged down to the common area in hopes to find either Peter or Nat. However, when you arrived, the only person there was Sam, lounging on one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone. Groaning, you went to sit next to him, and rubbed your forehead.

"Hey honey, what's up?" He asked, sitting up straighter. Without looking at him, you shook your head, and replied. "I've had a pretty wild fucking day." Sam quietly laughed but tried to convince you that he was serious, pulling a stern expression.

"Ay, there's no need for that kind of language. Talk to me." He didn't turn his phone off, but placed it behind him on the arm of the sofa. You didn't bother to look and see what was on the screen.

Huffing, you turned around and sat criss-cross applesauce to face him.

"I don't like getting a new suit."

"...that's it?" He asked, frowning slightly. "Yes, that's it. I haven't been feeling like myself lately, and having to get a new suit fitted is just another reminder that my body will never be like every other girls. I'm ugly, I have a bit of stomach, stretch marks, there isn't a-"

"Ugly?" He interrupted, pulling a sour face. You nodded slightly, not knowing what else to say. "Y/n, you aren't ugly. And so what if you have stretch marks, or aren't a size zero? You aren't expected to look like a Victoria's secret model 24/7. Besides, you are beautiful in your own way. You were raised by a group of superheroes who save the world every week, you have the smarts of Tony Stark, the fierceness of Natasha and the morals of Captain America himself. Your body doesn't define your self worth, and it doesn't define who you are."

You were slightly taken aback by how good Sam was with words, but you gave him a small smile anyway.

"You should write poetry." You said, giggling slightly.

"Get your ass out of here before I push you out of the window, just for that comment." Laughing even more, you stood up and walked over to the door.

"And y/n," Sam added as you turned around, "go talk to Tony about this. He'll be pleased to hear it."

Pleased? Your dad would be pleased to hear that you're cripplingly self conscious of your body? Not focusing too much on the thought, you walked over to the elevator.

"Jarvis, where's Tony?" You asked, walking into the lift. Jarvis's voice was soon to reply.

"Tony is in Miss Stark's bedroom." Sighing, you pushed a button on the lift, and leaned back against the cool metal.

"Of course he is."

The elevator doors opened to reveal Tony on one side of your room, his back to you, admiring your shelf packed with books. He didn't have to turn around to know that it was you in the elevator.

"I find it slightly offensive that you can talk about it with Sam but not with me." You stalked over to your large white bed and threw yourself on it, staring at the plain ceiling above you.

"Talk about what?" You asked, looking over at your father. He walked over to the beanbag beside your bed and gently sat down on it. "Your feelings, opinions, thoughts, normal teenager stuff." He had a look on his face, as if he knew everything that was going on inside your head.

"How do you know what I talked to Sam about?" You questioned, sitting up on your shoulders.

"Jarvis picked the entire thing up, I was listening through my phone."

"Oh..." you couldn't be angry at Tony, he was your dad after all. You didn't mind him listening to what you had to say, but you wish you had the bravery to do it face-to-face.

"Listen, I know how it feels to be a teenager, and to have your parents expect too much from you. But your looks don't matter at all to Pep and I. They don't matter to anybody else, either. You have a great personality, and an even better mind, so don't feel like your looks are everything." Nodding, you stood up and walked to where Tony was sat on the beanbag. Offering a hand, you helped him up and stood directly in front of him.

"We love you, y/n. Peter loves you, I love you, Pepper loves you, all of the avengers love you. You just need to try and learn to love yourself." You saw a glint in his eye, recognizing the sincerity behind his words. He pulled you in for a hug and rubbed your back, letting you know that you were safe in his arms.

Maybe today wasn't as bad as you expected it to be.