#by the time he realized it those pieces were as much hers as his

[mercury2venus]

CHAPTER 3

BACK 2 BACK

Warnings : straight SMUT, dirty talk. Real nasty y’all. MDNI.

We fucked. I mean he had me hanging halfway off the balcony screaming to the entire city of New York just how good Kyle Alexander was fucking me. 

It was New Year's Day and I needed to get my story typed up as soon as possible. I creeped out of the bed picking up the articles of clothing I was stripped from. I looked around the room, drinking in its appearance. God...we did some freaky shit. After getting dressed and getting lost in his big ass penthouse I bid adieu to the maid. And slipped out of the place. 

Then I realized I didn't drive here. Shit. I ran back in and dialed the only person I could trust to keep this to themselves. 

" Hello Who is this ? " she answered.  Monica was my best friend and held me down through it all but I know this shit was going to be a topic with her for days. 

'It's Mecca." I mumbled. “Look I just need you to come pick me up I'm at a friend house and I'm honestly not trying to overstay my welcome.” I gave her the address and begged her to hurry. 

I heard Monica laugh and agreed to be on her way. 

I watched her cherry red Porsche pull up, bumping some Jodeci. She just had to draw attention while I tried to make a quiet escape. I got in the car and seen the smug look on her face. " So.." Monica held back a laugh. Who fuckin house is that ? " 

" Just drive Mo." 

That was 2 months ago. Kyle called and called. Sent roses, left voicemails. Wrote me letters. All asking what did he do wrong ? And Why am I avoiding him. The answer was guilt. I never slept with someone I interviewed. It was classless and I hate myself for it but the dick was so good I found myself in perpetual daydreams.

 

Today I was a guest speaker at NY Fashion institute the article I did on Kyle got the attention of well everyone. I was proud of it, it truly was my best one to date.

I tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear hoping my updo would stay in tact at least till I get back home.  

Speaking to the students was a dream come true, They were so engaged and really has alot of commentary.  

" Hi Ms. Ali , I'm Fallon Brooks, Junior. i just wanted to tell you that seeing a Black Woman in journalism owning her own magazine. calling the shots, showing the world that we are more than what the media shows is inspiring to this little Black girl from Atlanta, Georgia. You mean the world to us and i just really wanted to say Thank you so much. she laughed. 

I wanted to cry this is why I do it, for all my little Black girls who felt unheard, went unseen, their well deserved opportunities given to white mediocre counterparts. 

" Thank you...God I'm gonna cry." I laughed. I wiped my tears and smiled. 

After speaking to the students, I walked towards the bathroom I had somewhere to be in a bit and I wanted to make sure I looked great. 

" Mecca." 

Damn. So much for avoidance. I turned around with a small smile. His eyebrows raised as if he's waiting for an explanation. " Mr. Alexander ...Hi." I spoke. 

He tilted his head and walked towards me. He got close to my ear," After making you cum 5 times I'd think you'd refer to me as what I told you to call me." He said softly.

Cocky much ? 

" Having sex with you was a mistake I let my judgment get clouded. Thank you for granting me access to your mind and for doing the interview. I really appreciate that. Mr. Alexander ." I smiled. I had to set boundaries. 

Kyle looked at me. Those intense eyes of his narrowed. Just stared at me. 

" Mecca. I don't care about the other bullshit okay ? We had a great time, what's the real reason you've been avoiding me hm ? He said lowly. 

I looked him in the eye. 

" Young black woman on the come up from Harlem meets rich, playboy fashion designer.. I don't know I just don't need the world thinking some knight in shining armor came and helped me or I fucked my way to the top. I put in time and effort for this, I didn't grind the way I did back at Spelman just for someone to look at me and say it was because of You" I vented. 

Kyle's eyes were soft.  " Mecca — I, I'm sorry I didn't even think about that. Fuck. I just really like you love. I have a tendency of moving really fast. I apologize sincerely. "

I looked into his eyes.

Fuck it.

                                  ••••••

"Shit, you messing up my hair K."I moaned.  Shameless I was. Here I am butt naked back at his house getting fucked from the back  Kyle had my discombobulated my French roll and was now gripping my hair as he grinds into me 

" this shit is amazing Mecca. I was being nice earlier you keep this away from me next time I'm going to your house. Understand? "

I hated him. Everything about him irritates my fuckin soul. But God the way he was talking sent shockwaves to my core.  He put a leg and and got deeper 

" I said do you understand ?" He barked. 

My response was caught in my throat the only thing I was able to muster up was some incoherent sound. 

" yes baby, fuck I hear you." 

He pulled my head back to give me a sloppy French kiss. " good fuckin girl " he mumbled.

"Ky, I'm about to cum daddy. " I moaned

" hold it, not yet. Fuck this pussy is too good " 

Confidence filled me at that moment 

" careful this good ass pussy will have you acting crazy "

" too late Mecca " he laughed.

I let out a pornographic moan. He was saying all the shit I loved to hear. " mm yea this your pussy now " I whispered. He must have heard me because next thing I knew I was on my back with my legs at my ears.  " keep saying shit like that and I'll nut in you Mecca" Kyle warned.

" then do it baby nut in me " I egged him on

" you so fuckin nasty .." Kyle threw his head back, he pushed my legs further to my head and began to pound mercilessly. 

" what's my fuckin name Mecca, tell them who this good ass pussy belongs to."

“it’s yours daddy, it’s forever yours baby I swear “ I yelped. My eyes began to roll to the back of my head as he thrusted into me deeply.

“ it better be, that’s the shit I like to hear Mec. Tell me you love it here and you’ll never leave again” he spoke into my ear.

I won’t , Kyle..I won’t.” I whispered as I became undone.

At that moment I signed a deal with the devil.

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

My arm has been twisted and I now offer the people of tumblr my 1800 word Darry yap:

Thinking about Darry and his parents. More specifically, Darry and his dad. How they must’ve been so close. How Darry loved both of his parents to the moon and back, but he just had a special bond with his dad. He knew he could always rely on him, so since he was three, he’s always wanted his dad. If he woke up from a nightmare, if he was sick, if he fell and scraped his knee, he always wanted his dad. How he felt so guilty about that for a while. It wasn’t until he was eight and realized that Soda was always reaching for their mama that he started to feel a little better. He felt like it was ok that he reached for their dad when his brothers reached for their mom.

How Darry grew up carrying so much pride in the fact that his father gave him his name. He loved that a piece of his dad was always with him. He also knew how proud his dad was of him. How he knew Darry would do some much in his life. He saw the way his father’s face filled with joy when Darry showed him his first football jersey with the name Curtis on the back. He remembers opening up a college acceptance letter and scholarship and immediately running to his dad. How Darry had handed him the letter and his father’s eyes had filled with tears. How that was the first time Darry saw his dad cry. He remembers how his dad had put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him right before the state championship game and told him that no matter what, he was proud of him. He remembers that after his dad had went to go find his mom and brothers, he’d made a silent promise that he’d do everything he could to win. And he did.

He also remembers the night before he was going up to his college dorm. How he’d sat in his room, his backpack open and completely empty. He’d looked around at the room he’d grown up in, and he was scared. He was terrified. How he’d walked over to his dresser and picked up a framed picture of him and his parents and brothers right after the championship game. Darry’s hair was sweaty against his head, but he had the biggest smile on his face. Ponyboy and Soda were hugging him, also with big smiles. His mom looked so proud of her son. But the only face he could focus on was his father’s. How his dad had a smile that rivaled Darry’s. Darry felt his chest swell with emotion looking at the photo. And suddenly, there were drops on the glass that covered the picture. Then, his father was standing in the doorframe. But by the time Darry had blinked, his dad was sitting next to him on his bed. His dad just reached out and let Darry, his first son, the boy who carried his name, the boy who made him a father, cry into his shoulder. Because he shouldn’t be this stressed about leaving. He should be excited, lord knows Darrel Sr would’ve been if he’d gone to college. But here he was, venting out all his fears while his dad just reassured him that he’d be fine. And he had Paul too. Even if he wouldn’t see his family every day, he still had a piece of home with him, after all, Paul was going to be his roommate so he’d probably see him so much they’d be sick of each other.

But then, his dad died. And suddenly, Darry was standing in the living room of the house he grew up, 15 feet from his dad’s chair, being told that his parents were gone. Dead. Suddenly, he was telling the cop that he would become his brothers’ legal guardian. Suddenly, filling out the paper work and writing down his name made nausea swirl in his stomach and made his head hurt. Because that wasn’t his name. That was his dad’s name. But that didn’t matter right now, what mattered was keeping his brothers safe and home. So he just filled it out and gave it to the state. He dropped out of college. He got a full time job at the same place his dad used to work. And he was slowly becoming Darrel.

Darry left the house six times during the week Pony was gone. Five of those times were to go to work because bills didn’t care if your baby brother could be dead somewhere. The other time was to go to the cemetery. Normally he would’ve taken Soda, but he couldn’t this time. Because he wasn’t even out of the car before he broke down sobbing. He cried in his car for a little bit, before deciding he needs to do what he came to do. So he got up, and walked over to the headstone at his mom and dad’s grave. He sat down and just started apologizing. He told them he was so sorry. He was so sorry that he couldn’t protect his brothers. He was so sorry that their baby ran away and it was his fault. He was so sorry for hurting them. He told them he didn’t know how they did it. He told them he wished they would come back. He wished they’d never left in the first place. He wished that Pony would come home. How he knew he didn’t deserve it, but he wished it brother would come home. Maybe not even for him, but for Soda. He told them that he couldn’t stand the fear he’d seen fill Pony’s eyes after he hit him. He looked at the gravestone with his parents names carved in it, and he told them he never meant to fuck up this bad. He told them that maybe it’d be better if Soda and Pony were with someone else. Maybe he just wasn’t cut out to be taking care of them. He told them that he knew Pony hated him, he knew Pony thought Darry hated him. Darry swore he didn’t, he loved his brothers more than anything. He didn’t even remember when he started crying, he just tasted the salt of tears in his mouth. So he shut his eyes tight in an attempt to stop them, because who the hell was he to cry? He did this, why should he get to be upset over it?

And in that moment, with his eyes shut, he could’ve sworn he felt his father’s reassuring hand on his shoulder, or his mother’s warm fingers wipe away the tears running down his cheeks. Maybe it was the wind, but Darry would’ve sworn that he heard their voices reassuring him. Maybe he was crazy, but he stood up and thanked them anyway. He’d told them he loved them and that he was going to do everything he could to bring their baby back home.

Darry mentally kicked himself when he got home and saw the kitchen light on. Because that meant Soda had and he was probably freaking out at waking up to an empty house in the middle of the night. So, Darry braced himself for the worst. But what he didn’t expect, was seeing the kitchen and living room empty. Confused, he’d gone to Soda’s room, it was also empty, but it was clear that Soda had been sleeping there because his half of the bed was all messed up, like someone had been tossing and turning. It wasn’t until he reached his own bedroom door that he heard quiet cries. So he’d pushed open the door and was met with the sight of Soda, curled in on himself, body shaking while he cried. Darry was immediately sent into older brother mode while he walked over to his brother. He’d knelt down in front of him and quietly asked him what was wrong. Soda’s head shot up at his brother’s voice and he just whispered out that he’d thought Darry had left too. And the sight of his little brother looking so scared and small broke Darry’s heart even further, something he didn’t even think was possible. It wasn’t until he’d managed to calm down Soda enough to convince him that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he saw Soda holding something. It was a frame. And in it was the picture of their family from Darry’s senior year. The photo with Darry smiling the biggest he ever had. The photo with Pony and Soda clinging to their big brother because of how amazing they thought he was. And then there was his mom, who looked so proud of him that he almost started crying. Lastly, there was his dad. His dad with the proud smile, equally as big as Darry’s. His dad who had taken off a whole day of work just to drive the whole family out to see him play. His dad who taught Darry how to play football in the first place. And looking at him did make Darry start to cry. So he pulled Soda close, and they just looked down at their family photo. Their family before it was shattered and separated. Their family when it was whole, and complete, and happy.

Soda spent the night in Darry’s room after that. He refused to let Darry out of his sight for fear that he was gone or he was going to leave the minute Soda fell asleep. But when they were both tucked in Darry’s too small bed, Soda finally let himself succumb to sleep. But Darry couldn’t sleep. He was too busy thinking about his dad. How would he feel seeing Darry now? Would he be proud of how his son stepped up? Or would he shake his head in disappointment and say that Darry was hurting his brothers? Then, Darry lets his mind wander to thoughts of how things would be if his parents never died. Would he wake up to his mom laughing at her 20 and 16 year old sons sleeping in a full size bed? Would he walk out to see his dad reading the paper in his chair? Would he kiss his mama’s cheek then ask his dad if they were watching the game on Sunday? Would his dad say that he had work, but somehow still turn up in time to watch at least half of it with him? Would he be working with his dad? No, he’d probably still be at college. Maybe starting his junior year by now. Maybe his dad would joke that his son would be in the draft in a few years. Maybe he’d call his brother’s and give them relationship advice while Paul sat on his bed giggling at him. Maybe in that world, he could look at pictures of his parents without longing for one more conversation. One more rushed goodbye because he was late. One more time that his dad patted him on the back. One more time his dad gave him a proud smile and said he was glad his son wore his name.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hiiii can I pretty please request Lucifer, Vox, and Vaggie x fallen angel reader? Thanks!

Lucifer Vox and Vaggie x fallen angel!reader

Locking the fuck in I'm down twenty pounds lets fucking GOOOO

Notes: reader is fem for vaggie, gn for vox and lucifer, short post, though i guess this is written more platonic leaning for lucifer and vaggie- opening relationship dynamic stuff instead of something old and established

CWs: mentions of canon typical violence

LUCIFER

he can... relate to you- odds are you were unfairly cast out for not conforming to heavens ideals, and he gets that. so much. it may not instantly make you friends but its definitely going to open a few conversations for the two of you to have- centuries of hurt and frustration can come out in a passionate garble once you get him comfortable enough

though outside of that he doesnt actually talk about his past as an angel all that much- one can only feel so much until it burns them out and hes got other things to worry about

some part of him feels sympathy for you but another part of him is still distrustful- though... he still does keep an open mind when interacting with you, hes not going to let you build yourself back up from the ground if you dont give him a reason to ditch you

VOX

will try to find a way to profit off of it- or at least he would if he didnt take another few seconds to realize just how much of a bad idea that is- not just for you, but how would it reflect back on him and the other two if theyre harboring an angel- fallen or not?

hes... actually not all that interested in hearing what heaven is like, so at least you dont have to worry about him prying all that much, especially if the circumstances of your fall are... sensitive... for once him being self centered pays off to save you some level of pain, at least in this instance

he does however ask what all you can do, even in your current state. youre mighty powerful, yeah? so youve definitely got some ability to do some real damage? hes definitely going to keep that in mind going forward

you land a job easily under him so you at least have some level of income to adjust to your new home so thats fun at least...!

VAGGIE

very similar to lucifer in the sense that shes not going to instantly trust you as soon as you fall- you were just in heaven and one indiscretion in their eyes isnt enough to change her mind on you- even worse if youre an exterminator like she was. you know how to fight, and you know how to kill someone. and the odds are you still have your weapon. she is NOT going to be taking any chances with you- very much icing you out for the longest time

its going to take something for her to let those walls down around you- earn her trust and to make her feel... not on edge around you. even after that getting her to open up past that- its like pulling teeth. WILL make a cover story on why you may or may not know her so no one else puts the pieces together (pre reveal)- and she advises you hide your angel status... fallen or not...

there is definitely some anger held for heaven but the way she talks about it she treats it more as something to not be trifled with- a threat that can very well ruin everything the hotel is aiming for. will be keeping her eyes on you if youre ever allowed anywhere near the hotel

[stompandhollar]

Honestly the most revolutionary thing about Gravity Falls to me is its commitment to sincerity.

I’ve been listening to Alex’s podcast where he goes into the details of each episode with different storyboard artists and writers who worked on the show, and it just baffles me how… cared for the story is. Right now in media there’s been an uptick in satire, and shows making fun of themselves for existing, or taking the piss at their own content to “win” fans to their side. It’s like whimsy is gone from so many pieces of media. But Gravity Falls just doesn’t… do that. It completely embraces itself. Weirdness and all. And so does the team behind it. I’m not used to something I care about being so cared about by everyone surrounding it.

Here’s this cartoon, written and illustrated by an entire team of people saying, “no, we’re serious. we mean this. we made this on purpose and we made it important.”

Throughout the podcast, Alex discusses little ins and outs of each character, offering so much deep internal struggles and enriching the story even farther. And listening to him unpack it with the utmost sincerity just warms my heart. Each character is so dynamic because they were cared for by people who imbued them with sincerity.

That’s exactly why we get quotes like “Shame is powerful, but it grows in the dark,” as Ford realizes the trauma he’s hidden for so long is being embraced by his family, diminishing it’s weight on him through their immediate support.

It’s why we get Alex describing Stanley with quotes like; “I always in my gut thought of him as somebody with a huge well of sadness, a loss of human connection. And that need to please? That need to get laughs from the crowd, and putting on a big show? He’s trying to get from them the affection he never got from his family, and that he lost with his brother.”

Or detailing how Mabel might be a goof… but half the time she’s doing a bit, because she’s really more mature than her brother and doesn’t want him to grow up too fast. She’s trying to help ground him and bring lightheartedness into his life. Because she knows otherwise, he’ll become too self isolated.

And those two mini character studies he dropped so casually in these podcast episodes just… color the show. It’s why the show survived so well even after ten years. It’s gruff-old Stan always calling his niece “Pumpkin” and “Honey”. It’s the family always holding hands without it behind laced with a joke, and falling asleep on one another in the car. It’s Alex explaining that people toyed with other endings, other plot lines, other twists, but it was always going to end with Stan and Ford mending the family tie they severed thirty years ago. Because that was their story. Messes and family and care.

Ten years ago, watching it for the first time as it came out, I felt all that. But now, as an adult, knowing that all the other adults who made it felt the exact same way? :,) What a special story we all got to grow up with, and get to continue being apart of.

[readwritealldayallnight]

Love is a Verb

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

wc: 3k words

warnings/tags: fluff, allusions to smut, Simon gets in his feelings™️

It was the first time that you dropped a plate stacked high with heart-shaped pancakes in front of him, that you realized just how much Simon had been starved for love in his life.

“What’s this?” He asks, eyebrows scrunching in confusion, staring down at his plate as though it were a bomb in need of defusing.

“Breakfast? You’d mentioned pancakes the other day and I’ve been craving ‘em since.” You shrug, walking back towards the stovetop where the next batch are waiting to be flipped over.

“They’re- you’ve never-” You glance back over your shoulder at him, watching as he appears to struggle to find the words for what he means to say. He looks almost out of place, his large, hulking frame sitting at a breakfast table with flowers adorning it (he’s the one that brought you that bouquet, of course), his bed head on full display. “You’ve never made ‘em like this before.”

“What, like hearts?” You giggle, scooping up the last of the breakfast onto a plate, making your way back to the table, seeing Simon give you a nod in confirmation. “I just wanted spread some love to my love. Is that alright?”

Setting your plate down next to his, you go to take a seat before you feel two muscular arms wrapping around your middle, pulling you backwards and seating you onto his strong lap.

“‘Course s’alright.” He mumbles into your hair, pressing a kiss wherever his lips may land on you. From those two words alone, you can tell his throat is getting scratchy, and you almost think you hear the slightest sniffle coming from him. You can’t help the surprised blush that creeps through you. You weren’t expecting him to react this way. You’re willing to bet he also wasn’t expecting to react this way.

Knowing that communicating, as well as understanding, his feelings isn’t something that always comes with ease for Simon, you decide to give him a moment, not wanting to put him on the spot. You spread some maple syrup across your stack, tilting it in the direction of his plate and receiving a grunt of confirmation before you drizzle some onto his as well. Taking your cutlery in hand, enjoy your breakfast in quiet bliss, taking turns feeding bites to yourself and your shadow behind you, always receiving a loving squeeze to your thigh after each piece you slip between his lips.

“Mum never made anythin’ like this.” His revelation arrives just as your chewing on your last bite, stomachs content, hearts even more full. You can count on one hand the amount of times Simon has brought up his family to you. You’re aware of the circumstances, and while you don’t know every detail (nor do you need to), he has over time opened up to you about what happened. “Not ‘cause she didn’t love us. I think she would’ve if she-” he clears his throat, and you readjust yourself in his lap so that you can wrap your arms around his neck, leaning your head against his shoulders, rubbing reassuring circles into the muscles your hands come across.

You don’t want to overwhelm him by looking at him as he opens himself up to you, but you want to reassure him that you’re listening, you’re here with him. He can tell you as much or as little as he wants to, and you’ll listen.

“Beth did though. Once or twice.” He adds, resting his chin atop your head, running a hand through your hair. “I mean, I’m sure she did it more than that but, I saw her do it, once or twice. For Joseph.” Your grip around him tightens ever so gently at the mention of his late sister-in-law and nephew. You’ve never seen a picture of the boy, but you can just picture him, a small little blond head of hair, maybe with eyes like his, running around, keeping his young parents busy. Knowing the fate his family endured, a shiver runs through you, but you don’t let it overcloud the moment that Simon is sharing with you. Certainly not when it appears he’s thinking of them fondly right now, reflecting on his past with a happy lens.

“I’m sure he must’ve loved it.” You whisper into the skin of his neck, sending goose bumps sprawling across the flesh.

“He did. Tommy too.” At that he gives a slight chuckle, shaking the two of you. “Even when we were younger, he could always eat us out of house and home. Was like you couldn’t get anything to stick to his bones, either, that kid. More than half the time I wound up shop liftin’ it was to feed his skinny arse.” You sit there together for a moment, holding one another, basking in the newest glimpse of his past that Simon has just offered you.

“They would’ve loved you.” He mumbles into your hair, emotion evident in his voice, his grip on you tightening desperately, as though you two might slip through his fingers if he doesn’t hold you close enough. “Think you would’a liked em as well.” At that you pull away from his shoulder, slipping your hands to cradle each side of his face, bringing his forehead to meet yours.

“They loved you, Si. Of course I would love them too.” You whisper against his lips, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to each corner of his mouth, the top of his nose, each closed eyelid, before returning to his mouth.

It’s the next week when you decide to finally tackle the last of the moving boxes. You and Simon finally moved in together a few months ago now, and Simon seems to have placed more priority on ‘christening every room’ (also known as fucking you senseless over each and every available surface in the place) over unpacking.

The handful of boxes that are left are more of the miscellaneous, don’t really have anywhere to put them, sort of items that you can’t exactly part with but don’t have any real use for. Most of it being your stuff. His time in the military has left him without a need for many material items, and so you’re surprised to find a smaller box shoved to the back of the pile labeled as ‘Simon’.

Upon opening it, you find it contains a variety of what appears to be memorabilia he’s collected throughout his time in the military, small souvenirs from his travels, old folded up uniforms, and what not. But slipped between two folded shirts, you can feel something more sturdy. Carefully slipping it out of the box, you discover a frame containing a multitude of medals.

In spite of being in love with a Lieutenant, your knowledge of the military is still slim. You don’t recognize any of the medals shining up at you, but they are numerous, and you can tell they must be incredibly important, something he’s worked so hard to earn. Why is he keeping this tucked away?

“Hey Si!” You shout in hopes that he’s near enough to hear you.

“What are you up to now, mischief?” He asks, his tone playful as you hear his footsteps approaching. “Christ, we’ve still boxes left?”

“Acting as if you don’t purposefully walk around them every day.” You tease back, rolling your eyes at him. You stand up, turning to face him with the frame clutched to your chest. He takes you in and raises a brow in question as to your discovery. “What are these?”

He steps closer to glance at what you’re holding, shoulders tensing for a moment before releasing, letting out a deep sigh.

“Ah. S’nothin’.” He tries to reach to take it out of your grip, but you swing your arms behind your back, hiding it from his grasp.

“What do you mean nothing? Doesn’t look like nothing to me, mister award winner.”

“They’re not- I don’t-” he seems to struggle with his words, and it’s only then that you realize perhaps he doesn’t view these medals in the same way you do.

“Do you not like ‘em?” You ask, bringing the frame back around to your front, glancing down at them with a more quizzical eye this time.

“I just- I’m not always proud of how I earned em, love.” He attempts to explain, reaching a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Some I reckon’ I don’t mind but- all just seems unnecessary to me. I did my job, all there is to it.”

“Are these like, the kind they have big ceremonies for and then someone pins them on you in front of everyone?”

“Somethin’ like that.” he grumbles, crossing his arms over his large chest.

“And let me guess, you never attended any of them?”

“Don’t need all the fanfare, lovie.” He says, stepping forward and slowly slipping the frame from your grasp, tossing it back into the box you’d found it in. “All I need’s right here.”

“I just wish you’d let yourself be celebrated sometimes too, Si…”

“Well if it’s celebratin’ my birdie is wantin’, how’s bout we go celebrate with you on top of the washing machine eh? Don’t think I’ve made you cum up there yet.” You roll your eyes at his changing of the subjects, but can’t contain the giggle that erupts out of you when he swings you over his shoulder, apparently having decided the laundry room is exactly where you two are going now. “Just put a load in the machine, only right I put a load in here too.” He adds with a smack to your ass.

You’re worried you’re about to make an absolute fool out of yourself. No, you’re sure you’re about to look like an idiot. You know how much that man loves you, but even this might be exaggerating. Glancing at the clock above the stove however, you know it’s now or never. The candles around the room have been lit, the lights are dimmed, his favourite meal is cooking in the oven, soft music is playing from the record player, you’re wearing Simon’s favourite dress on you, and you even went as far as to spruce up your hair and makeup for this. In theory, everything is perfectly set up and in its place.

So why then, do you feel so mortified as you hear the sound of keys jingling the lock at the front door? Oh right, because it’s him you’ve set this all up for.

“Hi sweetheart,” he shouts to you as he walks in, too preoccupied with removing his boots and gear to look up yet. “Smells really good, what’s-” He cuts himself off upon walking into the kitchen, eyes landing on the unusual scene before him. You watch as his irises glance around the room, taking it all in, before landing on you. He’s still stood a few feet away from you, but you swear you can see his pupils dilate as his eyes roam up and down your figure.

“Hi.” You whisper meekly to him, wringing your hands nervously behind your back.

“Hi.” He answers back, taking an apprehensive step towards you. “What’s all this then?”

“First you have to go get dressed.” You inform him, jutting your chin in the direction of your shared bedroom. The small smile working its way onto his face helps boost your confidence, nerves slowly dissipating.

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm. Even laid out your clothes for you, so you don’t have to think about it.”

“We goin’ somewhere?” He asks, beginning to undo his belt already. The movement catches your attention, likely his intention, and his smirk widens upon seeing you blush.

“Nope. We’re just celebrating at home.”

At this, he freezes his movements, belt halfway slipped out of his belt loops. His gaze scans your face, looking for anything he might have missed.

“Shit. Did I- did I forget something, baby? I did-”

“No, no no no!” You cut him off with a slight giggle, coming up to him now to lay your palms across his chest. “No, you’re okay Si. You didn’t forget anything, I’m just surprising you.” You reassure him, knowing that he only calls you baby when he’s worried he’s in trouble (or when he’s already in trouble, crouched between your thighs attempting to earn his way out of the dog house).

“You didn’t have to do any of this love.” He says, hands pulling the rest of his belt out, before he loops it around you, using it to pull you even closer to him.

“You don’t even know what I’ve done yet, mister. We’ll see if you still like me in a bit.” You stand up on your tippy toes, planting a kiss to his Adam’s apple, fingers reaching up to slowly lift the skull printed balaclava off his face. Your lips follow each inch of skin revealed as you finally slip the fabric off his visage, exposing the face of the man you love. “Now go get dressed before I change my mind.”

With a kiss to the forehead and a squeeze to the bum, your man releases you from his grasp to obediently follow your command, making his way towards the bedroom. Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you turn towards the cabinets, pulling out the secret you’d been hiding, the reason you’re doing any of this.

Minutes later, Simon is walking back into the room, dressed in form fitting black dress pants, and his large hands are finishing up the last few buttons of his white button-up shirt, the buttons appearing minuscule in his grasp. Your eyes land on his figure, and suddenly the smell of the food in the oven isn’t why your mouth is salivating so much. He glances up at you, eyes meeting and each of you fights off a small blush and a shy smile, as though you’re seeing your dates for the prom for the first time.

“You’re so handsome, Si.” You tell him, stepping closer to him.

“Think you’re just desensitized to me at this point, love.” He attempts to deflect, but you see the blush deepening across his pale cheeks. “Besides, I oughta be kissing the ground you walk on birdie, just look at ya…” He reaches a hand out towards yours, spinning you around gracefully, taking the time to admire you entirely.

The look in his eyes is glazing over, as he licks his lips, eyes unable to tear away from each inch of skin you have exposed. You’re equally become as hot and bothered, but you’ve got a goal tonight, and you want to see it through, for his sake.

“Before dinner, I uh- I wanted to do something for you.” You say, stepping back enough that your backside meets the edge of the counter top. Your hands feel behind you for what you’re looking for, hoping he can’t see what you’re attempting to conceal for just a little longer. “I don’t need to explain to you how hard you work, everywhere you go, you’re always taking care of others, Si. And you don’t get even nearly as much thanks as you should, and-”

“Love,” he tries to cut you off, stepping closer to you, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Hold on, I really want to say this. To do this.” He nods at your interjection, accepting to hear you through. “Ever since I met you, you’ve changed my life Simon Riley, and I know I’m not the only person in the world who can say that. You are a good man, a hero to many, a leader to others. You’re just- you are good, Si. I promise you are.”

You can’t help the emotion beginning to seep into your voice now, but it’s important to you that he hears every word you have to tell him, and that he knows you mean them.

“I don’t know everything you’ve done, and I don’t want to. Your job terrifies me, and every time you walk out the door I’m scared you’re going to get hurt but- you’re so good at what you do, Simon. They couldn’t do it without you. You’re important, you’re needed.” At this, you slip the frame of medals out from behind your back, bringing them in front of you for Simon to see. “That’s what these are, at least in my eyes. They’re reminders that you’re meant to be doing what you’re doing, but most importantly, they also mean you made it back. You made it back to me.”

His warm hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear that’s spilled over your lashes, his palm staying to cup your cheek affectionately.

“You’re right, we don’t need all the fanfare, all we need is right here. But some occasions call for a celebration. That’s why I’m hoping you’ll let me put these on you? Just once, just this one time, I just- I need you to know how important you and your accomplishments are to me.”

Wordlessly, he nods to you, his own eyes appearing to be brimming with emotion. Sniffling, you turn the frame over, opening up the back before carefully slipping it off. Your fingers gingerly pick up the first medal they find, bringing it up to his firm chest. You look into his eyes once more, ensuring that this is okay with him. All you see in his gaze is pure, undeniable love. One hand reaches between the fabric of his shirt and the warm, scarred skin across his pec, as the other brings the medal to the front of the button-up. With all the devotion and tenderness in the world, you secure the medal to his front, slowly slinking your hands away to see if it’ll stay in its place.

When the medal does not budge, you repeat the process over with the remaining medals, until one side of his shirt is significantly weighed down compared to the other side, and both your hearts are bursting with affection for the human being stood before you. Sliding your now empty hands up his shoulders, his calloused palms resting on either side of your waist, his eyes communicate to you everything that his lips will never need to tell you. You know him. And you know what you mean to him. That’s why as he shuts his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead, you find yourself whispering the sentence you hope to tell him every day of your life:

“I love you too.”

[nemisuki]

Sunshine

Jealous AU | It wasn't often you spoke to those outside your class. So imagine his shock when he saw you speaking to a random extra in the hallway. A short oneshot of jealous bakugo and an oblivious girl who is unaware of a lot of things… including their romance.

᧔o᧓ || Katsuki Bakugo x f!reader, no manga spoilers, no nsfw, pure fluff, minor jealous bkg but not toxic, aged up to third years, dense reader, mutual feelings, bkg pov, implied short reader, oneshot, bkg is mature and a softie, open ending, 1.1k word count

He had to do a double take to make sure he wasn't mistaking something. 

His red eyes are practically boring into the student's back – who had the guts to approach you. 

A random extra from another course, a guy he's never seen before. So why the hell are you talking to him? 

As much as he tried, he couldn't look away from the sight. Who knows what they might pull on you. Bakugo can tell by the way the idiot looks at her, that the guy is clearly interested. 

That pissed him off. 

And what pissed him off even more is that she's completely oblivious of it. 

The girl didn't know how beautiful she was. How blinding her smile was when she saw something she liked.

How blinding her smile was when she looked at him.

If only she recognized the significance of her own feelings.

Bakugo could tell she liked him more than a friend should. Yet the dense idiot didn't know how she felt herself. 

He knew she unknowingly developed feelings for him as they started their third year. For someone as perceptive as him, it was easy to notice the clues. 

She clings to him despite his rough demeanor. And easily laughs whenever he grumbles a snarky comment under his breath. Always following him around both in and out of class. 

At first he didn't know what to do. He wasn't one to even think about romance. But her constant proximity threw the blonde off. 

Slowly as time went on, he found himself expecting to see her by his side. Feeling a bit uneasy on those rare days they didn't spend much time together. By the time they were halfway into their last year at UA, that's when he knew. 

He liked her too. As more than a friend. 

For the first time in his life, Katsuki Bakugo yearned for romance. Yet only with her.  

The realization only made him more agitated. Him growing soft for a girl? How ridiculous.

✦ ⎯⎯ㅤִㅤ୭ ୨♡୧ ৎㅤִ  ⎯⎯ ✦

He was pulled out of his thoughts a few seconds later. The reason?

The sight of the other guy lifting his hand and picking a piece of lint out of her hair. Not a second later, taking the opportunity to ruffle her hair playfully.

That's what had him speed walking over there with purpose, “Oi Y/N!” 

Her head quickly turns around at the familiar sound of his voice, “Ah Bakugo! Good Morning!” she says with a bright smile, completely forgetting about the other presence behind her. 

That response alone, almost made his stoic expression morph into a cocky grin. Almost. 

He grumbles in acknowledgment as he stands by her side, looking back and forth between her and the extra close by. A silent question directed towards Y/N. To which she seems to figure out immediately. 

“Oh this is Kai from the support course. He had some ideas for potential support gadgets I could use to regulate my quirk!” 

Support course huh. 

Bakugo simply stares at the other guy, a calm yet serious expression displayed across his face. He makes no move to greet this supposed ‘kai’ or even initiate small talk. 

A moment of silence passes between the three of them.

Kai smiles awkwardly in Bakugos direction, a visible indication of how uncomfortable he is. “Erm- well I should be heading to class now. See you around Y/N” he says but then quickly leaves as he makes eye contact with Bakugo. 

Meanwhile the blonde's ego skyrocketed from his success of driving the coward away. His shoulders slightly relax from the defensive stance he wasn't even aware he was doing. 

“Huh? What was that about?” she says looking back at Bakugo with a curious expression. Tilting her head to show her confusion. 

“Tch how the hell should I know. Now hurry up. We gotta head to class” he says, turning around and starting to walk in the direction of their classroom. He doesn't need to look back to know she's already shutting her locker.

“Or do you want to be late?” he says, loud enough for her to hear. 

“Ah, I'm going. Wait up!” she says while proceeding to run to catch up. Slowing down when she reaches his side and adjusting her bag that's draped over her shoulder. 

He occasionally glances at her as she starts babbling about random topics. Though he's not really paying attention to her words. He’s eyeing the side of her head, the specific spot where the other extra touched her. 

Bakugo doesn't know how to feel. 

He's confident in her feelings for him. Confident in his own abilities. 

Yet being a boyfriend… is something he can't comprehend. What exactly makes a good partner? Empathy? Kindness? Vulnerability? 

None of those reside with him. 

He ponders for a moment and takes a look at her cheerful expression. Full of bright joy that could rival the sun. 

His feelings only seem to grow more by the second. 

Without much thought he lifts his hand and gently pats her head. She pauses her endless chatter and hums in acknowledgement, “hm?” 

“Your hair is all messed up from before” he grumbles while fixing the random strands of hair by patting them down in place.

They both halt in the middle of the hallway as she lets him finish. Giggling at the soft sensation of his hand. He raises a brow at her sudden outburst. 

“What's so funny, idiot?” he huffs out and pinches her puffy cheek, unable to resist. 

“It tickles! Plus your hand is really warm. Agh- hey!” she whines slightly at his sudden actions. Trying to pry his hands away and retaliate. Only causing his body to tingle at the contact. 

 ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ 

He likes her. A lot. 

“When are you gonna realize huh” he mumbles to himself. Showing pity and letting go of her face. 

“Huh sorry what was that?” she says smiling while rubbing her sore cheek.

“Nothing nerd. Cmon pick up the pace, you're slow as hell” he rolls his eyes and continues walking to class, not waiting for her yet again. 

“Not my fault I have small legs!” she yells out and jogs after him, already falling behind.

She can't see it but his lips slightly curve up at her words. What an idiot. 

A few minutes before the bell, they make it to their classroom. Bakugo ignores his classmates as usual and makes a beeline to his seat. Sitting down and taking out his notebook. 

He can already hear Y/N chattering away in the background with some of their friends. Yet a few seconds later she's already at his desk to blab on about something else. 

Some of their friends come over as well to join in on the conversation. 

But his eyes never leave her. 

He may not know all the aspects of how to be a good boyfriend but for her, he’ll try. When the time is right. 

For now he could only wait for Y/N to figure out her own feelings. Which frankly might take awhile.

But Bakugo isn't worried. 

Because he knows she'll follow him anywhere. 

And so would he. 

✦ ⎯⎯⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨ masterlist || taglist || intro || socials ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⎯⎯ ✦

a/n ||| idk why this specific fic got so popular?! it's my most viewed work but I prefer my other ones ermmm hi bakugo fans... check out my longer fics? if u want? um i love u all byeeee! plus ultra!

[artdolliewishes]

Imagine female Yuu having to cross dress to avoid unnecessary trouble at NRC and Idia finds out through Ortho. Because I can see Ortho finding out if Yuu ever got a minor injury and he was around to play nurse, knowing him he’d do a quick full body scan and find a very high amount of estrogen in her system.

And he blabs to Idia because he’s a snitch who doesn’t keep anything from his brother; if you tell a secret to him, you’re basically telling it to them.

Once Idia finds out, his mind INSTANTLY goes to those otome games and fanfics and gacha life videos about a girl in all boys school. He always thought those were just fun fantasies, but upon seeing that exact scenario happening in real life he becomes curious.

Prior to this, Idia probably wouldn’t think much about Yuu. To him, she was just the odd magicless guy his brother would occasionally run into; the most interesting thing about her was her cat, in his eyes. But now that he knows about her secret, he becomes heavily invested in her school life, he wants to see how this is going to turn out.

He doesn’t exactly stalk Yuu, it’s not like he’s putting cameras in Ramshackle or listening devices in her bag, it’s more like he just pays extra close attention to her when he has the chance, such as during joint classes and lunch. And since Ortho and her are on amicable terms, he encourages Ortho to spill any gossip he learns when around her.

To Idia’s surprise and delight, things end up matching up almost perfectly with what he’s come to expect from these kinds of plots. The ones close to Yuu, who seem to be privy to her secret from what he’s gathered, are all either falling in love or have already been in love. They’re extra protective of her, they’re affectionate and soft with her, and they get jealous when she gives too much of her attention to any one of them.

Idia knows about the overblot incidents, so of course he’d see the pattern in who starts getting closer. Every time someone overblots, Yuu will be there to help and both the overblotter and some other select people in their dorm will begin to fall. It’s a classic pattern.

At this point, Idia would simply see himself as an observer peeking in on this story and, therefore, he can’t be affected by Yuu. He’s not a love target in her story, he’s a side character.

It doesn’t matter that he’s occasionally run in with Yuu and each time he has she’s been a true friend to an introvert like him by making his anxious ass feel comfortable. It doesn’t matter because he’s aware of what’s happening and thus he can’t be affected.

But then he also overblots, and just like before she was there to help pick up the pieces. After that they ended up talking and Idia gets to know more about Yuu, more than he could learn by just observing.

Before long, he’s actually looking forward to seeing her again, to nerding out about his favorite anime’s with her in person because she’s always such a good listener. He’s looking at his manga and game collections and thinking about what she would like.

Idia doesn’t even realize his hearts been skipping beats when she’s around until one day when he’s in class and she walks in. Like a dog hearing their owner walk through the front door, his gaze shoots up and instantly that class gets fifty times more bearable with her around.

…And then he looks around and every other “main character” has had the same reaction.

Which means that he’s also a captured love target, just like them…

Oh how the turn tables for a dating sim loving nerd like himself

[sunsburns]

okay but logan taking an interest in neighbor who works in fashion?? he always sees her carrying stacks of magazines, dressed in her chic attire that is sometimes a bit too tight in all the right areas, glasses slipping off her nose, always making calls on that damn phone, and yet he always wishes she looked his way…

oh anon ur cooking here. i think this is what's pulling me out of my writing slump 🥴 (wade breaking the fourth wall, suggestive 16+)

the first time he noticed you, it wasn't even in your building complex, but rather the stairs to the subway station down the street. you were rushing up the steps while he, wade, laura and al were just about to enter. it was al who noticed you first, calling out your name and poking your side with her walking staff.

you shrieked, dropping one of the fabric rolls you had been carrying, a curse at the tip of your tongue before you realized who it was. "al," you sighed, a little relieved, when you saw her and wade, who was dressed in a "i love nyc" t-shirt.

logan, being the gentleman he was, picked up the roll you dropped, handing it back to you. it was then that you looked at him, or well, briefly glanced his way with a quick "thank you" before wade started fucking talking.

that son of a bitch.

he didn't even have the courtesy to introduce the two of you to each other.

it was obvious you were in a rush, lips in a tight smile as you nodded and tried to smile at wade telling you all about how they were about to "hit up" times square.

logan felt bad for you, but only a little bit. the longer you stayed to listen to wade's painful monologue, the more he could look at you. he was a little shameless about it, perhaps not the most gentlemanly thing he could've done, but god you were just a sight for sore eyes.

a pretty thing in a mini skirt despite the cool late september breeze that was starting to kick, white, lace and ruffled. delicate with tall brown leather boots. and a washed-out denim vest you wore as a top, two buttons undone, a little pink bow tied to the pocket. logan didn't know a lot about fashion, but he liked the way clothes looked on you.

and then you were gone, al kicking wade across the shin to shut him the hell up when she realized you were in a rush. she let you go, and you left, quickly trading numbers with laura and without saying much of a goodbye or another glance logan's way.

but he watched you go, watched the way your skirt moved with the wind too.

"yeah, look at it bounce. god, i am no better than any man. " wade hummed, leaning all his weight on logan's side. "i didn't peg you as a creep, honey badger. with the way you were undressing the reader with your eyes, i would've thought you were on a registered sex offender's list."

"shut the fuck up, wade."

logan could hear the way laura snorted, her and al continuing their way down the stairs.

wade held his hands up in surrender before logan could try anything (and by anything, he meant to cut him to pieces. wade can't deal with that right now, the blood would take ages to get off his white shirt). "i'm just saying, after living with us for a few months, i would've thought you'd met her by now."

logan raised his brow, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"i mean, she literally lives across the hall." wade turned his head to the side, pointing his thumb at logan, "he can't possibly be this stupid, right? it's gotta be for the plot to build up tension or something."

from that day on, logan's started to notice you more. not that he was looking for you, he's not that big of a creep. but he's spotted you out the window some days, running down the sidewalk, always in a rush. then he was able to hear the way you slam your door shut when you leave in the mornings or when you get back home.

every single day, you're usually out and about. unless it's a sunday, those are the days you stay in your apartment, sewing and hanging out with blind old al and sometimes even fucking laura. turns out, you were the one who got laura all of those new clothes, made them for her.

jesus christ, how out of the loop was he?

you stood out like a sore thumb, always carrying something. whether it be magazines, sketchbooks, fabric rolls, or bags, you're always struggling to open your door when you get home, keys sometimes slipping from your grasp as you're trying to juggle everything.

one day, logan had come back from a run and spotted you in the hallway. well, he had heard you from floors below and was able to pick up the lingering scent of your perfume by the time he entered the lobby. it took him a bit of courage to walk up the few flights of stairs knowing he'd bump into you.

what the fuck was this?

he was a grown-ass man for god's sake. you had him overthinking and blushing at the mere thought of being in the same space again.

when he saw you in the hallway, you were on the phone, the device tucked between your ear and your shoulder, cursing under your breath as you tried to pick up your keys. you were wearing a black dress that day, a black hat and a big maroon scarf around your neck, "no, emily, don't fucking buy it in that colour. it looks like fucking vomit. i don't care what amy told you, she's basically colour blind-"

you stopped mid-sentence when logan appeared in front of you, grabbing the keys for you. "oh- uh. thanks."

"yeah, no problem."

he noticed your nails and glasses were dark red to match the scarf. lipstick too.

you didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, he could tell from the way you froze, as if you didn't know what was supposed to happen next. he had disrupted your daily pattern, everything in your life moving constantly and quickly but all of a sudden everything is slower. it left you breathless.

"you're logan, right?"

he furrowed his brows. he hadn't expected you to remember him, nevertheless, remember his name. "yeah."

"wade told me all about you," you said, and your eyes dropped from his face a little, then lower, a smirk not too different from a sly cat's. you were staring shamelessly, eyes following every part and curve of his body, the way his long-sleeve shirt clung to his skin with sweat. "you don't seem austrailan."

logan tried not to groan. the picture of wade's stupid face in his mind now that you've mentioned him. he hated that the two of you seemed close. "i'm canadian."

"aren't you full of surprises?" you laughed, a smooth, teasing sound, and finally pushed the keys into the nob, unlocking the door. you turned, lingering by the door as if you were about to invite him in, but then the voice from your phone was trying to get your attention and you nearly seemed disappointed. "i'll see you around, logan."

and you were gone again.

logan liked to see your different outfits every day, dawning a different style every time you walked out that door. it was like you could never settle for one style, but you managed to look so fucking good in everything and every colour you put on.

he could never get tired of it. never get tired of you.

you and your tiny bottoms that he swore were getting smaller and smaller every day, even though the city grew colder and the days shorter. you and your stupid phone calls that sometimes went on late at night. you and your clothes, every single one different from the last.

you and your sketches, the ones he had started to find loose pages on the floor of the small hallway between your apartments, pretty designs of lingerie on a model that looked a little bit too much like you for it to be a coincidence.

though you never made another attempt to talk to him, you knew he was watching you. but you never chased, your heels were too expensive for that. you were just trying to give him a reason to come on you.

to you**

to come to you.*

sorry. typo.

[criminalamnesia]

everyone’s asking for a part two so here is more angst bc cedar by gracie abrams is perfect for this [ also inspired by what @shotmrmiller said in their reblog :)) ]

part one here

part three (aka version 1 of the ending) here

part three (ending version 2) here

it’s odd coming home to an empty house. unnerving, even. he doesn’t like it— dislikes it even more than he did your celebrations. fuck, he’d kill for those damn streamers right now.

“love?” his voice is soft as he calls out into the dark, once lively little flat. it hasn’t felt this big since before you had moved in.

he takes a few more steps inside, toeing off his boots and letting his backpack fall to the floor. by now, you would’ve been launching yourself into his arms. where were you? you’d never missed the day he came home. ever. you would have it marked on your calendar from the day he left, exclamation points and stars decorating the date.

“love?” he calls again, his voice a little louder. he keeps moving; notices there’s no smell of freshly baked goods or a home-cooked meal.

he rounds the corner, his eyes instantly finding the little note propped up on the dining table. eyebrows furrowed, he approaches. it’s addressed to him, clearly in your handwriting.

he reads it, and he really should’ve seen all of this coming.

he doesn’t cry. doesn’t even feel sad, really. it’s not like he hadn’t loved you— he had, but sometimes you made it really damn difficult to. your constant touches and words, doting on him, talking his ear off about this and that. he’d loved it at first, then came to tolerate it, and eventually he found himself hating it.

it wasn’t fair to you. he didn’t hate you, he hated the naivety. the unconditional love. partners were supposed to show each other that kind of love, were they not? so why did he come to despise it?

perhaps it was some deep rooted self-hatred. something dark and twisted inside of him that had done too much and taken life. killed and killed and killed. watched his comrades die in a number of ways. slowly. quickly. suddenly. brutally.

it hollowed him out, but it was his job. it was his job to do what he could for the damn world— get his hands dirty so people like you would never have to worry about a damn thing.

he should’ve seen it coming. you had been acting a little odd the last time he was home, he realizes now. detached, almost. quieter. he had cherished the quiet then.

now it was weird. he didn’t know how to feel.

he placed the note back down onto the table before making his way into the kitchen. some utensils were missing. some plates and bowls. the colorful dishrags you’d hung from the stove handle. the little plant you’d stationed in front of the window above the sink.

all the pictures of the two of you remained on the fridge. he could see in the photos how he slowly became detached. but you— god, you wore that dazzling smile in every photo.

he turned around and headed towards the bedroom.

——————————————————————

there wasn’t really any defining closure. you’d left the note, sure, but he hadn’t gotten to speak his piece.

would he have begged you to stay? told you to leave?

he didn’t know. all he knew was that it wasn’t fair to you, how he acted. what he did.

he also knew that if you called, or if you showed up and said you forgot something, or hell, if he saw you on the street, he’d say something. apologize at least, because that’s the least you deserved.

but you didn’t, and after a few days, he stopped thinking about you. what you’d be telling him right now if you were there. stopped thinking about how you sang when you cooked dinner. how you would reach for his hand when the two of you were in the grocery store.

how you would throw those damn ‘welcome home!’ parties.

he fell back into who he was, and your memory became nothing but a minuscule dot on a large piece of paper.

but for you? you had been miserable when you’d shown up at your friends apartment. cried into her shoulder as you told her about the note. sobbed as you realized that he didn’t care about you, and how you’d wasted so much time on this man who didn’t give a damn.

but even still, when you stirred in the middle of the night, you expected to feel his hands around your body. expected him to press a kiss to your head as you drifted back to sleep.

you woke up and expected him to be there. you forgot that he wasn’t yours. you found yourself missing him, even though you’d starting doing that far before you actually left.

it took the man you loved days to move on. it took you months— almost a year. he put you in fucking therapy, for god’s sake, because that shit messes with someone.

loving someone so completely, so wholly, only to finally realize it’s one sided? it’s crushing. he crushed you. but you picked up the pieces, and you put yourself back together.

you move on. find someone who actually cares for you— someone who communicates and doesn’t lose interest. someone who appreciates your enthusiasm. someone who returns it.

and when the man that broke your heart several years ago tries to stop you on the street one day,

you keep walking.

[toxinoire]

Okay okay so the scene where Glinda and Elphaba were about to escape the palace via hot air balloon, they failed because the roof closed.

But imagine what would have happened if it hadn't.

The balloon would fly, and they would escape.

Where do the winds take them?

Kansas.

Specifically, to where Dorothy is.

Dorothy, who's still around like 6 or 7.

So by some miracle, Dorothy's family lets them stay since someone needs to watch the young child while they're all away. So they basically become nannies/older sisters/substitute parents to this child.

Elphaba loves using her magic to make the little one laugh. And Glinda loves helping Dorothy dress up. The magic is a well kept secret.

Elphaba teaches Glinda some magic. While Glinda is not as powerful nor can she do as much, there are little things she can do. Such as make small objects float towards her, make flowers bloom, and control bits and pieces of light (I personally think magic is connected to not only emotion but personality).

As time passes by, Gelphie finally dates because 10 year old Dorothy one day asks Elphaba "where's your girlfriend?" while Glinda was just in the other room. Leading to an inevitable talk.

Gelphie's relationship is a well guarded secret by them and Dorothy, it took a while to explain to Dorothy why it's not so safe to tell others yet (remember the year this was made y'all), but she eventually got it.

When Toto was given to Dorothy, he did nawt like Glinda at first. He did eventually warm up to her, but Glinda still pouts about it sometimes.

Now the storm--well, tornado.

So, the house finally lands. Elphaba and Glinda step out first to make sure it's safe for teenage Dorothy to be outside.

And then the dawning realization that they're back at Oz strikes them.

And from the posters they see, it's clear that Elphaba is still wanted. Though this time, so is Fiyero. Because Fiyero lost Elphaba, the girl he's in love with but hadn't told, and Glinda (whether or not you personally believe he and Glinda had truly been in love may vary, but he cared about her, that's his bestie), he decided to take a stand as well. But of course, he had been painted as the wicked vigilante. Now, as for Glinda, she had been used to make Elphaba seem more of a villain--Morrible had been saying that Elphaba kidnapped her.

Dorothy is wondering why their names are all over this place Dorothy never heard of. Glinda and Elphaba are just like "sit down for this"

Dorothy is just "...I love that, actually."

And so now, they have to find a way home, then Elphaba fucking sees who's under the house.

And that night is spent through Elphaba crying in Glinda's arms, Glinda trying her best to comfort her, and Dorothy is also trying her best to be there.

Elphaba gets to keep the shoes this time.

Now their main question is how the fuck do they get home (they don't know of the shoes, how could they when they've been away from Oz for too long), find Fiyero, and maybe Boq, and maybe take the wizard down if they have time. How do they do all that when Elphaba is still blacklisted and Glinda is seen as some victim?

(Then maybe Glinda thinks out loud, what if there was a universe she hadn't been able to be there for Elphaba? And then the Dragon clock answers "Every other universe, you weren't there. Every other, you could never reunite. This is the only one you do." And upon hearing those words, Glinda becomes even more determined to stand by Elphaba's side because since his the only universe she stood with her, as an apology on behalf of her other selves, she'll make up to all the other Elphie's as much as she can here where she has this privilege to be with her)

[rafesangelita]

rafe + breeding kink

warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie

a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol

“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.

“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.

“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.

“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”

rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.

you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.

“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.

he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.

rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.

you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.

you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.

“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.

“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.

with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.

burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.

you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.

rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.

“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.

you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”

[spaghettiposts]

5 times you slept in places you shouldn’t have + the 1 time Wanda dragged you with her

Wanda Maximoff x Spider!reader

Summary: You’ve always had trouble sleeping, and Wanda’s always been there to see it.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, poor readers not doing so well in the sleep department.

Word count: 10.7k (I am so sorry)

A/n: I’ve always wanted to try this troupe I’m very excited with how this turned out. Took me literal months (started in march) anyways!! Reblogs or no more Wanda 🫵 /j happy reading!!

The couch

Sleeping had never been your thing, but you could sleep through it all when it was. You were never a heavy sleeper, in fact, a light sleeper. Just the slightest of noises were enough to have your body ringing and if you refused to comply your very friendly spider-sense would have no problem in senselessly jolting you awake till you’d arrive half stumbling into a nearby crime scene.

Your spider senses only worsened to the point where sleeping was becoming harder to do and at some point you stopped trying altogether. Night after night you’d stare aimlessly at the ceiling above you, just, waiting for the prickling sensation to eat at your flesh until you couldn’t handle the needles seeping through your skin. The lack of sleep and the cruel anticipation were eating at you, and you were starting to grow desperate.

Over dinner you complained about it to Steve one Friday night when all the Avengers took time off for some one-on-one time (despite not being an official member you graciously accepted the invitation), he noticed your sluggish behavior and recommended you avoid living near the danger until you could learn to control your powers better. His reasoning being; “If you’re not near a crime scene, your senses won’t have anything to wake you for, that way you’ll receive the proper rest you require”.

The strangest part out of all of it was; his advice worked. At the compound, you slept like a baby, in your apartment in New York? Not so much. You were very appreciative of the man, and he was even kind enough to offer you a room which you accepted immediately. 

One person who had been initially excited about your move-in was Wanda. You were lucky enough to consider Wanda one of your closest friends aside from Peter. She was absolutely brilliant and you both got along well. Similar to an unfinished puzzle piece she was the last puzzle you didn’t even know you were missing. She needed company, and you were glad to provide it. 

You didn’t visit often, but with this newfound arrangement, you would be. Wanda didn’t know if the idea of spending more time with you or potentially sleeping one room away from you excited her more. Either way, the thought of you being a door down had her cheeks flushing and Natasha’s lips curling into a knowing smirk.

So yes, Wanda was excited about your temporary stay. 

That was until she realized how annoying of a sleeper you could be. No, you didn’t snore, nor drool in your sleep. 

Your problem wasn’t any of those. And honestly, Wanda wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for a late-night last-minute grocery run. Earlier that morning she had promised the team she’d cook her famous paprikash for tomorrow and had miscalculated exactly how many ingredients were in stock. 

As Wanda stepped out of the elevator, she shifted her weight to better handle the bags, struggling only slightly before releasing them onto the counter with a sigh of relief. With a flick of her wrist, the lights turned on, and to her surprise; you were there too. Not in the kitchen but sprawled out on the couch where soft snores were leaving your lips. 

‘Huh’

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, chuckling to herself. You looked like a starfish and your attire was… well, certainly something. You were completely knocked out beneath your Spider-Man suit and–– were those sweatpants? She guessed you must have been swinging through the city on patrol again. As for how sweatpants ended up on you, a mystery. 

You still had your mask on, and before Wanda could give it much thought she was already walking in your direction, step by step, until she was kneeling beside the couch. Carefully, her fingers reached out, slowly lifting the edges of your mask. Just as she was about to peel it out, you stirred beneath her touch, causing her to still.

“Wanda?” You whispered hoarsely, elbows lifting to get a better look at your surroundings but Wanda was quick to push you back down.

“Relax, you fell asleep in your suit again.” Wanda shushed you, and you hummed, not really fighting it, settling back into the couch to give her more control. She gently pried off the rest of the mask before placing it on the coffee table. 

Leaning down she ran her hand towards your hair, pushing away strands from your eye and you grumbled sleepily. 

The witch chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before straightening herself up again. “There, you can sleep now.” 

“You’re the best.” You mumbled as she walked away, taking a deep breath, and burying your face back into the cushions. 

From the kitchen Wanda smiled fondly, a blush tinting her cheeks as she unpacked the groceries; moving quietly to not wake you. You’re all she thinks about as she organizes things, glancing in your direction every so often. 

And you find yourself doing the same, seeing her in your dreams, and sleeping with an even bigger smile than before. 

—

2. Tony’s desk 

The compound is surprisingly quiet the next day, considering Tony was paying a visit Wanda would’ve assumed exactly the opposite in his company. But there were no out-of-the-ordinary noises, just the occasional banging of his hammer and welding machine. 

Overall it was pretty peaceful and the weather was just beautiful, a perfect blend of sunny but not insufferably so, a sight that would go well with some lunch. Naturally, you’re the first person that comes to mind that Wanda thinks to ask. 

Yet, a problem arises when Wanda can’t seem to find you anywhere. You’re not in your usual spots, including the bean bag chair in the movie room, or the outside bench next to the pond. 

Noticing Wanda’s dejected demeanor, Natasha has enough of it after all the aimless pacing. The assassin suggests that you might be downstairs in Tony’s lab, and Wanda’s eyes light up the next second. A brilliant suggestion indeed, after all, he was your mentor. 

Unsurprisingly, Wanda finds you exactly where Nat said you’d be. Hunched over, asleep on one of Tony’s desks, snoring ever so softly. Next to you were your web shooters—or pieces of them. 

The sight would’ve normally made Wanda smile if it weren’t for your uncomfortable position. Any more time spent like that and you’d surely be retired before 40 with chronic back pain. Previously, you had told Wanda not to worry about it, mumbling on about how you spiders could sleep anywhere.

Wanda didn’t believe it for one second, knowing you immediately had to pop a few pills to relieve the pain in your spine. As much as you were a superhero, you weren’t immortal, humanity never left you—something Wanda had to remind you of whenever you pushed yourself to a certain extent. 

Feeling a weird sense of déjà vu, Wanda removed the gears from underneath your arms, carefully placing them aside, mindful not to ruin the process you had sorted out. 

Placing the items aside, you sigh on the table, stirring softly, but you remain blissfully unaware. A gentle smile curls on Wanda’s lips as she watches you, her soft palm coming to stroke your back. 

That was enough to jolt you awake, snapping up with wide eyes, and grabbing the nearest screwdriver to threaten whoever was there. Your posture was contrary to intimidating, and Wanda couldn’t help but laugh, lifting her hands in mock surrender. 

“Please have mercy.” She teased with a playful grin, using her finger to push back the ‘weapon’. 

You blinked confusingly, glancing down at the item in your hand before chuckling. “Consider yourself lucky it wasn’t Thor’s hammer I picked up.” You quipped, placing the tool down and stretching your arms above your head. 

And Wanda sighed, watching you struggle to get that knot out. Standing up from her chair she came to your aid, massaging at your shoulders and back. You sighed in relief, leaning back into her touch as she worked her magic.

She really did have magical fingers. 

“You really have to stop resting in places that’ll give you backaches.” Wanda chides, hands sliding underneath your shirt for better access, sending a shiver down both of you.

“If I stop then how will I get more of those delightful massages from you?” You murmured with closed eyes, completely drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s warm hands on you. “It’s what I love most about you.” 

Wanda tensed, flattening her palms on your back, before continuing with trembling fingers to not raise suspicion. “Is that all?” She retorted, voice low. 

You posed a thoughtful expression, letting out a hum as you leaned back. “Also for the delectable cooking, so, two reasons.” You teased, holding up two fingers. Wanda scoffed, slapping the back of your head and removing herself the same second. You giggled mischievously, trying to get her to come back. 

Swiveling your chair around, you reached out for her and effectively trapped her between your legs, and Wanda rolled her eyes, ignoring how the position made her feel things. 

“So I’m just a housewife to you then?” She prodded, tilting her head in a way she knew would have you stumbling. 

You shook your head, gently uncrossing her arms and taking her hands between yours.

“You’re more than that to me Wanda…” Standing up you brushed the strands of hair away from her eyes, leaning in close enough to feel Wanda’s breath hitch and you smirked; whispering. 

“You're my housekeeper.” 

Approximately 0.5 seconds was what it took for Wanda to gasp and shove you back towards your desk, and you let out a hearty laugh. 

“See if I ever cook for you again.”

Her voice means to come out stern but you completely ignore it, thinking how adorable she looks with arms crossed and an almost annoyed pout on her face. It’s your arms that wrap around her that make her break, bringing her into a hug and making her cheeks flush again.

“I’m simply teasing witchy, you know I love you, all of you.” The words slide out easily from your lips as you lean down to press a tender kiss to her head and Wanda looks surprised, but then you quickly redirect your attention to the basket with a cheesy grin and Wanda stumbled. “Now how about we go enjoy that picnic then?” 

Your steps are quick as you grab the basket, ignoring her piercing gaze.

And with how unaffectedly you move, Wanda wonders if you could possibly love her differently in the first place.

—

3. In a tangle of webs + Peter

Some nights were harder than others for a mind reader. It wasn’t an uncommon fate for any Avenger either, everyone had their own issues and Wanda had just been so lucky to view all of them. If she had the choice she’d never choose to see them but if Wanda had learned something from all her years; nightmares were loud.

Loud enough to startle people from their subconscious, and loud enough to provoke detailed images of their clouded lives into replaying scenes in her mind. A horror Wanda didn’t yet have the strength to ignore. 

It didn’t help that most nights, they had them. 

Empty walls stared back at Wanda’s dimmed green eyes. Her hands firmly wrapped around her head—in a fashion of both comfort and control, trying to ease the pulsing, luring her into a state of ease just to slip into someone’s mind again. She wanted to stop the feeling and visions but couldn’t. 

After twenty more minutes of hopeless starring, the memories grew weaker. 

Still, her mind remained trapped in what she had managed to see. Deciding that sleep wasn’t going to help Wanda groggily stood forward, trudging down the stairs to grab a glass of water in the common room, maybe some chamomile tea. 

Part of her heart sought company, and if given the courage she’d knock on your door and ask for it. But this time, for once the universe seemed to be on her side when her eyes landed on you.

—with Peter. Laying in a tangle of limbs, and webs. Not exactly the conscious company she was hoping for…

Despite your clustered position on the floor you both seemed at peace. You were both fast asleep and for just a second her heart clenched with envy before simmering into a soft sense of affection. How was it that you could be so cute without even trying? 

Slow droplets poured from the facet and into her cup as she took in the sight, forgetting why she was even there in the first place. But then her eyes wandered over to the calendar, right, Friday. 

She felt silly not noticing sooner. Had she really been so caught up in her head that she didn’t notice what day it was? 

The unfinished Lego Razor Crest propped on the table should have given it away. 

Fridays were ‘Fundays’. 

Wanda thought it was stupid, which was probably why she wasn’t invited to the events. Not that she minded, considering all you ever did was build legos with Peter and occasionally talk about girls—and why would Wanda want to hear that purposely? 

She knew she had no right to feel jealous, it wasn’t wrong for you to think about other girls. But did you have to be so damn obvious about it? Your mind was a fortress when it came to penetrating your thoughts, it so rarely happened, but when it did she caught glimpses of the girl who was (annoyingly) always on your mind.

The girl with green eyes. 

Too focused on figuring out who that girl was again, Wanda lost track of how much water she really needed when the cup began to overfill. 

“Shit.” Wanda hissed, turning off the tap before the water could spill further. “Gross…” she grumbled, scrunching her nose as she dabbled at the wet spot on her sweater.

That was enough water for the night.  

Briefly, before she leaves, Wanda considers waking you up again. Maybe coax you into a proper bed this time around, but before she can make up her mind Peter’s bursting awake, looking panicked. His widened eyes meet Wanda’s equally alarmed ones and he sucks in a breath. 

“Oh, sorry… I thought…burglar.” He stammers, scratching the back of his head, albeit confused. “What time is it?” 

Glancing towards the oven, Wanda squints. “Late, it’s 3 AM.” She replies and Peter grunts, mumbling about how it’s way past his bedtime. 

Amid his movements to stand up, your head slips from his grasp, colliding with the foot of the table with a heavy thud and he stumbles back. Wanda gasps, shooting Peter a glare, (who doesn’t really register it in his state of distortion) before she rushes to aid you. 

“What the fuck…” You mumble groggily, hissing at the stinging coming from the back of your head, slowly lifting yourself up to find a concerned Wanda helping you sit. “Wanda?” Now you were really confused but nevertheless allowed her to move you. 

The room was cold, chills rushing through your body in the absence of warmth, but the soft touch of warm hands felt incredible against your skin. Not being able to help yourself you leaned into her touch, noticing the way Wanda’s breath hitched.

God, she was so cute. 

Wanda swallows dryly and you think you might’ve said that out loud, judging by the way her fingers tremble and she’s turning away a blushing mess. But you don’t dwell on it as she continues to rub the back of your head to ease the pain.

“Are you okay dorogoy?” She coos and you nod wryly, her face contorting into one of mellows but neither of you says anything. Instead, you will your eyes to focus on her own, gazing into the depths of the forests that haunt your heart, and you have no clue why.

Sighing, she redirects her attention, eyes flickering between the both of you who are lost in thought. Part of her feels it’s from exhaustion but there’s something else written on your face that has her curiosity peaking. 

“Why aren’t you in bed? Both of you, it’s late.” She chides gently, and you flinch. 

“We got caught up with…” Peter starts to explain, motioning towards the Lego set and his demeanor avoidant. “that.” 

Wanda notices his shaken tone and frowns. It’s clear she doesn’t fully believe him and she opens her mouth to indulge him further but you squeeze her hand, pursing your lips to ask her to drop it. Her brows furrow in silent question, eyes glinting with whirlwinds of misunderstanding and hurt, but you’re too tired to answer any. 

Instead, you give her a reassuring smile. 

Peter had a rough time yesterday, that’s all, little witch, You whisper into her mind, seeing Wanda’s eyes turn a shade of red before returning back to you, accepting the response with a hesitant nod. 

“You really should get to bed Y/n…” Wanda tells you, rising to her feet and offering you her hand in the process. “You too Peter.” 

Peter nodded in agreement almost instantly, not wanting to stay any longer in his state of lethargy. Wanda makes a mental note to speak to Tony about decreasing his work hours. 

However, in contrast to Peter’s compliance, you deny her suggestion with a shake of your head. 

“S’too far.” You mutter under your breath, tugging webs to the corners of each room to create a hammock so naturally as if you had done it a thousand times. Which you probably have. 

For a moment Wanda looked amazed, marveling at your abilities to manipulate and create whatever you needed with just webbed fluids. But then you were snoring soundly on the makeshift bed—hammock—oblivious to the concerns you had stirred up and Wanda realized that wasn’t the point. 

When she turned to Peter for help, the younger boy scratched the back of his head nervously, shrugging his shoulders and giving an apologetic look. 

Seeing as there was nothing else she could do, nor did she wish to wake you again for the second time tonight, a sigh escaped Wanda’s lips. Red tendrils wrapped around a blanket, pulling it closer until it encompassed your body completely. She felt the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, but with Peter in the room, she held back to avoid any awkwardness 

Your lips curled into a soft smile, and Wanda returned it before turning on her heels to guide the other spider into bed. 

At least this one listens. The thought came bitterly, causing Wanda to grimace. 

“I honestly don’t understand why she keeps doing this when she has a perfectly good mattress.” Wanda sighs deeply, her voice laced with exhaustion as she walks up the steps. 

Peter blinks, giving another helpless shrug, gripping onto the rail for dear life. “I think it’s just a spider thing, sleep is anywhere you make it.” 

“But you sleep in your bed every night.” She points out, shivering at the sudden temperature. 

The air is turning colder and Wanda wonders if the singular blanket she gave you would be enough. She’s tugging at her sleeves when Peter interrupts her thoughts. 

“That is true…” A yawn cut through the younger boy's speech as he approached his door, looking dangerously close to passing out. “But I don't have problems with sleeping alone.” 

Wanda furrows her brows as the words register. Alone? You can’t sleep because you feel alone? But before she could pry further Peter was leaning against the wooden frame, fast asleep. And Wanda didn’t have it in her to ask anymore. 

Once she had successfully tucked in Peter, she closed the door gently, never once did you leave her mind. Leaning against the door, Wanda tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, her mind caught in thought but one remained a constant. 

Spiders really can sleep anywhere. 

—

4. Staircases 

Tired was an understatement, Wanda was spent. Completely and utterly exasperated by your behavior. There was an outstanding record for the amounts of migraines you’ve given her this month, knocking Pietro off the scoreboard by two. 

She was starting to feel annoyed and rightfully so as she stared at the crowd with a sour expression on her face. For the fourth time in a month, you were nowhere to be found and it was your party. 

Before Christmas, it was a tradition in the compound to throw a Gala in honor of the friendly neighborhood spiders who had worked overtime to keep New Yorkers safe for the holidays and throughout the year. 

More so an excuse for Tony to itch that insatiable party nerve of his before the big Christmas one. 

Of course, this gala was no exception to a roaring crowd. The dance floor was packed with sweaty people grinding on one another and Wanda swears she could see even Bruce getting into the groove of it. At the bar, only Natasha remained with a couple of straying men. So where were you?

A completely plastered Tony walked past the witch, stumbling as he did so and fiddling with his pants. Immediately Wanda grasped on his suit before he could get too far, enticing a yelp when she tugged the man to a secluded corner. 

“Tony, where's Y/n?” Wanda asked through gritted teeth. She didn’t know why—call it intuition—but for some reason, she felt your disappearance had something to do with him.

Tony scrunched his face, glancing over her shoulder with urgency and shouting back louder. “Where’s the restroom? That’s what I’m trying to figure out Maximoff, I’m pissing myself here!”

“Y/n, Tony, Y/n.” Wanda says exasperatedly.  

Tony's mouth forms an ‘oh’ as the realization dawns on him before he’s giggling like a schoolgirl which only heightens Wanda’s worries. 

“Ah, Y/n, funny story actually—”

It was not a funny story, and hearing the end of it had Wanda feeling even more upset and aggravated at the man. 

She didn’t know whether to be more angry at the fact you “consented” to that stupid dare in the first place or Tony coming up with the bright idea to launch you midair while intoxicated in his death trap tin suit. 

Which is how Wanda found you, through Tony’s utter stupidity and your sleepiness. Much to her relief, you weren’t dangling from a ledge or on top of the Empire State Building; instead, cozied up on the staircase with a beer bottle in hand threatening to fall off at any given moment. Tony’s red helmet sat snuggly on your head, leaning against the wall. 

Wanda huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes and approaching swiftly to wake you. Her hand collided with the back of your neck, sparing you absolutely no mercy as you sputtered awake. 

“Ouch,” You groaned, blinking dazedly beneath the helmet as all your senses came back to you, along with a searing headache. 

You grimaced at the sight of the bottle in your hand, setting it aside as if it could burn you with one single touch. 

That explains the headache.

“Welcome back, sleeping beauty.” Came that voice you knew all too well. You swore you could feel the hairs on your body standing as you slowly turned to see, shivering at the goosebumps, and being met with the sight of a very displeased Wanda. 

Her arms folded against her chest, head tilted at just the right angle to make you scared shitless. Still, the slight furrow to her brows and teary glimmer in her eyes had you thinking she wasn’t entirely angry, just, upset—sad. 

And maybe if your mind wasn’t so foggy, you would’ve taken it into account, and taken her into your arms. 

“Wanda…?” You murmured, attempting to feign innocence as if she wasn’t glaring daggers into your skull. “Oh! Wanda!” You exclaimed, mustering a very nervous chuckle. 

As if the helmet could sense your distress it decided that opening would be the best option and smiled sheepishly. Wanda raised an unimpressed brow, green darkened eyes digging into your soul and you sighed in defeat. Not exactly the happy welcome you expected.

Worth a shot.

“Don’t ‘Oh Wanda’ me! Seriously? Sleeping at a Gala!?” She hissed, and you stiffened, feeling the need to back up. “And on the stairs of all places, do you know how much of a hazard that is?”

You scoffed disbelievingly, feeling the need to defend yourself.  “Come on Wanda, we both know Tony’s parties—“ You cut off your speech, putting your fingers up in quotation marks to quote her.  “Sorry, ‘Galas’ are anything but formal.”

Then you’re pointing at the rousing crowd above you who you can hear yelling through muffled walls ‘Chug! Chug! Chug!’ and give Wanda a pointed look, who then rolls her eyes again.

“That’s not the point Y/n. It’s your party.” 

It’s Wanda’s diminished expression that has you sobering up instantly. Her tightened eyes stared back at your own, and you hated the guilt tugging at your chest. In the worst of states, you wouldn’t want her looking at you like that, not when you’ve seen her look at you better. It was selfish, but was it? To wish to see her smile again? You didn’t know, but it was worth more than whatever goddamn party—gala they threw at you. 

With a new mindset in mind, believing you’d have more fun with Wanda than without, you dusted yourself off, properly taking the helmet off this time. You carried it under one arm and offered the other. Wanda looked at you quizzically at the sudden change but you didn’t let that faze you, taking the initiative to wrap your arm around her own. 

Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe you just wanted to, so you did, leaning over to plant a short kiss on her cheek and Wanda lost all train of thought then and there. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry–I don’t know what’s the matter with me lately.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair and Wanda gives you a look of sympathy.

She squeezes your arm with her other hand, shaking her head. Her tone is soft as she rubs a comforting hand. “There’s nothing wrong with you Y/n…we all have our rough patches. Just, let me be there for you. You don’t have to hide away.”

 You suck your teeth, the urge to disagree coming in strongly but you resign, feeling embarrassed under her gaze and your confidence ends short-lived. 

Pursing your lips, your eyes drift downwards to your arms, not really sure what to do next. Noticing your struggle, Wanda takes pity on you and decides to drop the subject for another day, softly tugging on your forearm as she speaks. 

“Let’s dance?”

“Yes please.” You groan, barely finishing your sentence before Wanda leads you up the stairs and you almost stumble. Grumbling to yourself as you straighten up, you level Wanda a look in caution. “Just be warned, I can’t really tell the difference between my left and right foot right now.”

“It’s okay, you were never much of a good dancer anyway.” She hums teasingly, failing miserably at hiding her smirk.

You let out a gasp, feigning mock offense as you raise a hand to your heart, wounded. “Geez Maximoff, you know, typically you’re supposed to woo your dancing partner, not crush their hopes and spirits.”

The witch scoffs, rolling her eyes. Once you’re off the stairs and stable enough, she makes no point in waiting for you or giving you any answer as she walks through the bustling crowd and you quickly rush to catch up with her.

“Wow! And now you’re ignoring me!” You yell over the noise, a pout adorned on your lips. “And leaving me?! Wanda I must say, I’m not quite enjoying these new colors on you. What happened to manners–?”

You’re cut off abruptly by a sudden tug to your arm by Wanda, who’s pulling you to the side and you grin. She has two cups of what you assume is tropical punch in her hand and hands one to you. Lowering your nose, you smell the drink to check if it’s spiked. Wanda gives you an unimpressed look, and you think she looks hot when she’s annoyed with you.

Suddenly she’s slapping your shoulder with a burning pink tint on her cheeks, completely exasperated as she replies “My god, do you have an off switch?”

You shine a toothy smile, leaning against the wall for support as you bring the cup to your lips, a familiar mischievous glint in your eyes that has Wanda regretting saying anything. 

You cautiously lean into the space, whispering for only her to hear, “No, but I do have a couple of ideas on how to keep me quiet.”

To say it comes out more suggestive than you intended was an understatement. But Wanda doesn’t let that deter her, doubling down.

“Oh really?” Her head tilts, quirking an amused brow and you clear your throat to regain yourself.

The air becomes a little thicker than before and no amount of alcohol can save you from the blood pounding in your ears. The space between you has become thinner to the point where you can feel her breath on your lips and you pretend the close proximity holds no effect on you but your trembling fingers say otherwise. 

“Mhm, two words,” You murmur affectedly, and Wanda swallows. Your mind is clouded by all that is her so you speak slowly, feeling your throat dry. “Duck Tape.”

“One of these days, I’m gonna throw you out of the building.” Wanda huffs as you snicker, crossing her arms as she tries to fix her hair. 

Unable to help it, you tentatively reach your hand out, waiting for Wanda to pull away. When she makes no move, you carefully brush the strands away from her face, the warmth of your touch sending a shiver down her spine. 

Pulling away, you meet her hazy gaze and you swallow wryly, trembling. Giving her a lopsided grin as you stumble back, equally as affected. You really have to stop doing that. 

“Jokes on you, I’ve already done that tonight.” Comes your attempt to clear the air, resulting in another cross expression from the witch and you smile sheepishly.

“Y/n.”

Sucking your lips into your mouth, you nod. You raise a finger as you take one last sip from your cup, placing it on the table as you grab her hand again. “Right, sorry, dancing.”

Dragging her towards the dance floor, you spared one last look. This time finding pure adoration shining through her features as she stared at you almost…lovingly before she rolled her eyes. A look you preferred to see instead. Even if it had your brain short-circuiting.

A look that thankfully carried on when she found you half crashed into the Christmas tree after Tony had asked you to put up decorations, almost fast asleep.

“You’re an idiot.” Wanda sighed with a slight curl to her lips and you took that as a silent victory. She shook her head as she carried you down the hallway with her magic. 

“Yeah, I know…” You mumbled, still grinning which was quickly wiped as she let go of the magic carrying you. “Hey!”

Wanda squeaks as you reach out to grab her, running away the next second and you quickly follow with the promise that you’ll catch her, laughter echoing through the corridors as you chase each other.

—

5. Pillow Forts

Construction wasn’t exactly your forte unless it involved miniature bricks with instruction manuals. Aside from that, it was very obvious that Peter was the more resourceful spider as Steve liked to put it. You knew the man meant well when he said it and your ego completely shattered but despite the mental bruise, you never made a move to practice. 

It wasn’t like stopping trains or stringing a boat back together required much engineering when you had webs stickier than epoxy. 

And now, veins popping, sunk to your knees, you deeply regretted that decision. You wanted to strangle Peter, you envied his master builder abilities. The jumble of pillows on the floor mocking you with a stare that you could only describe as insulting if pillows could…stare. 

It was pathetic really, no, extremely pathetic and sad. Who has trouble building a pillow fort?! What was supposed to be a simple project, was the newfound bane of your existence. No matter how you positioned them, they tumbled. Limiting yourself to building by web fluid was becoming a choice to regret too. It made sense, every superhero grows dependent on their powers, it’s only natural, but this time you were determined to build something without your abilities. 

Glancing over at the clock, it read a little past nine—bordering on lines of ten- you bit the inside of your cheek, figuring you probably had a couple of minutes before Wanda’s arrival. 

Huffing, you returned your attention to the pillows and took them in your arms once more. This time with determination in your eyes and the thought of who you were building this for, remnant in your head and heart. 

As you stood back to admire your finished work, you surprised yourself. It wasn’t perfect and some pillows were more crooked than others but it was comfortable. Just as you had envisioned—from Pinterest boards.

It almost looked just as good as the ones Wanda had built for you after long missions and you wished you had spent less time staring at her and more time focusing on how she was arranging the blankets.

But the fortress only became better when you clicked on the tiny remote, turning on the fairy lights that hugged the curves of the pillows, bringing it all together in a bright vibrant glow and you smiled to yourself as the lights glimmered, imagining how happy Wanda would be. 

Your eyes returned to the clock and immediately widened next. “Shit!” You gasped, rushing upstairs to pick out the main attraction, silently scolding yourself for forgetting in the first place; Sitcoms. 

You grumbled to yourself as you dug through the drawer at the multitudes of never-ending options. Wanda had always preferred to watch sitcoms on a VHS tape, although the compound had access to all streaming services she claimed it didn’t feel the same. Truth be told, you didn’t understand why they were in your room in the first place but you assumed it had to do with the fact that Wanda always left them, tucked neatly in her nightstand before she curled underneath the covers with you.

You paused. 

Her nightstand? 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked across the room, realizing that there were a lot of things she left behind. Ranging from articles of clothing to a spare toothbrush in your bedroom and since when did you get decorative pillows? And why were there so many?  

You shrugged the thought off, assuming she was just really forgetful, besides it wasn’t like you were usually sleeping here anyway. You continued to dig through the classics until your eyes landed on the familiar I Love Lucy cover. 

Bingo

Smiling to yourself, you walked downstairs with the tape pocketed. Now you just had to be patient and wait a few until Wanda arrived from the hanger—

“Y/n?” Your heart startles and you're clutching your chest, turning to scold whoever scared you before the words die in your throat as you take in her appearance.

You suck in a deep breath because you feel as if all the air in your lungs has been taken.

She was breathtaking without even trying. Wet strands of hair clung to her face as she stared at you incredulously, eyes flickering between you and the fortress. Clad in nothing but a loose graphic t-shirt (that you briefly recognized as your own), and shorts that were making you dizzy. 

You cursed yourself mentally, shaking yourself out of any inappropriate thoughts. She’s your best friend for God's sake!

“Surprise?” That is what you say with a weak smile and a much higher pitch than intended. Keep it subtle. Things weren’t going entirely as planned, however, you could improvise. 

Wanda stares back amused, an unfamiliar glint in her eyes pooling, taking a step closer until her hand is dragging against your forearm. “Dorogoy, what’s all this?”

“I built it for us, I figured maybe you’d like to unwind…I know you had it pretty hard today and you’ve looked stressed all week.” You mumbled meekly, shifting against her touch. Pull it together man.

“Really?” She picked up her head, looking at you adoringly–that you missed from the bundle of nerves wracking at your mind, mistaking the look for one of contempt. 

But you pushed forward, believing it was a nice gesture. And even though all the logical parts of your brain tell you not to, you slowly untangle yourself from the witch anyway, missing the hurt that crosses her expression. 

You didn’t know why you were so nervous today. 

“Yeah, I picked out your favorite too.” You say half breathlessly, reaching for the tape in your pocket to show her. “Snacks and sitcoms, and more if you need anything. I’ve just gotta set up the TV before this and all since you came back a little earlier than I expected.” 

During your rant, you walked towards the television to find the player. Fiddling with it to distract yourself from the rising goosebumps picking at your body, but Wanda didn’t need to know that. With your back turned you failed to notice the scene unfolding behind you. Her eyes were slightly watered and she lingered by your side. Part of her, hesitant to reach out so instead she let them fall to her side, fiddling with her sleeves in a manner of comfort. 

Rummaging through the cabinets you exclaimed as you found it, turning forward with the device held to your chest, completely oblivious of the inner turmoil you’ve caused inside the other girl.

“Maybe even grab some popcorn unless you’d prefer chips? Seriously Wanda, whatever you want, I just want you to feel better—”

“Y/n?” She cuts in.

“Yeah?”

“Hug me, please?” She whispers, her voice cracking with desperation, her eyes unable to meet yours, ashamed of the vulnerability, and waves of regret crawl over you for letting go of her in the first place. “I’m sorry, I just really missed you and things went pretty badly- I just–” 

It’s you who cuts her off next, pulling her into your embrace, feeling her tremble against you. Wanda chokes back a sob, and tears blur your vision as you hold her tightly. 

You whisper words of comfort, murmuring, ‘I know, it’s okay, I know.’, while cradling her head against your chest. Despite being only slightly taller than her, you fit together perfectly, and you rest your head atop her chin. She exhales softly, her breath hitching with each shudder as she inhales your scent. Her arms move from your chest to return the embrace, burrowing herself into your chest and clinging to you as if you’d vanish again.

After a few moments, Wanda’s breathing begins to even, but she shows no signs of releasing you anytime soon. You gently squeeze her waist, hoping to draw her attention. Pressing a kiss to her hair, murmuring softly as you ask:

“Is…Is there anything else you need?”

Sighing, Wanda shakes her head, nuzzling further into you. “Just you, I don’t need anything else.”

“Okay.” You mumble into her hair, your fingers tracing gentle patterns across her back. For a moment, you stand there, bodies swaying softly as you hold each other. Selfishly allowing yourself to soak in the feeling of having her so close to you. “But if you even dare to grab my Cool Ranch Doritos just know I told you—”

Wanda groans, and you stifle your laughter when her hand playfully smacks your shoulder. You can almost feel her eyes rolling.

“Shut up, I don’t even like those.”

“Yeah right! I can still see the crumbs on your chin from last time!” You laugh in disbelief and Wanda pulls back gaping, completely affronted.

“That was one time!”

“One time too many! It was a party-sized bag—that I was planning on saving by the way, and you finished it!”

“Oh my god, just get in the fort before I change my mind and leave.”

It doesn’t take a lot of convincing to get you in the fort when soft hands lace into your own, dragging you inside. You’re more than willing to follow her anywhere.

She’s quick to push you into the pile of pillows, laughing when you squeal from the sudden impact. Shuffling underneath your arm and making herself comfortable against you, she turns to look up at you with a smile and you quickly turn into a flustered mess. With how she’s looking at you, you can’t help but feel that she’s doing it on purpose. 

Using her magic Wanda’s able to connect the TV from your position, not once disconnecting your bodies. She smiles in success when it works, sinking further into the comforting atmosphere as the show plays softly in the background. 

As the lights glimmer between your bodies, Wanda finds herself more captivated by you than the show itself. How could she not? After you’ve devoted so much of your time just to make her smile. A pang of gratitude hits Wanda’s heart, mingling with a feeling she knows all too well—a feeling she had tried to pass off as something smaller than love. But the more she spent with you, the more she realized it was pointless to deny.

Part of her hoped you’d choose to stay, to stay with her, because she isn’t sure how she’d be without you. 

Wanda knew she was letting it get into her head—but then you look at her, tenderly, as if she was the only girl in the world and fantasies resurfaced along with uncontrollable feelings that felt stronger than herself. Fantasies of one day being together, like this forever. Not just one singular moment but for the rest of your lives. 

The feeling of your body vibrating with laughter quickly snaps her out of her senses and she turns to look at the screen where a joke plays out. And god is that feeling one of her favorites. What drives her crazy is how you don’t seem to even notice how affected you make her. The way your hands would gradually grow bolder, slowly slipping past the hem of her shirt and grazing the skin underneath, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake. And how, whether consciously or not, you’d tighten your grip around her, pulling her in closer in a possessively deliberate way that had her biting her lip. 

Was it really selfish to want more? 

The thought swirled in Wanda’s mind heavily, but unbeknownst to her, it was in yours too. 

Wanda yearned for more than fleeting touches that led to nowhere. She craved more than unspoken vows you carried in silence, being too afraid to say anything, mortified by the thought of ruining what you had—unknowingly missing how you could have better.

Wanda Maximoff wanted to be yours.

The thought awoke her with a slight jolt and it had taken her a second to comprehend that she was asleep, the TV long since turned off then. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she recalled her vivid imaginations, realizing what had been originally just a second of resting her eyes had resulted in a 3-hour nap. 

But with the thoughts still fresh in her mind, Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care. She was on a mission.

“Y/n?” Her voice calls out slightly hoarse, breaking the silence. But the silence remains unbroken and Wanda frowns, removing her head from your shoulder to look at you. 

You’re sound asleep next to her, a faint trail of drool lining your lips. Bags are evident below your eyelids, and Wanda lets out a small ‘oh’. You had fallen asleep too.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Wanda shook her head softly, an amused smile playing on her lips as she admired you. Deciding that confessions could wait for another time, she leaned back and tugged a blanket forward, encasing you both again into that warm atmosphere. 

Recalling words you had said before: “A little back pain is worth the sleep”. She couldn’t help but agree more when it was next to you.

—

Together

There were two things you loved more than being Spider-Man in the world. 

Lightsabers, and maybe potentially Wanda. 

The latter being much more intimate than the first but you get the jist. The point was, that you liked Wanda. You were sure of it, with everything in your mind, body, and soul. 

So, why were you avoiding her? 

Cowardice.

Weeks had passed since that night. You still vividly remember the feeling of waking up to Wanda’s sleeping form, resting comfortably on top of you. After all, it was the best sleep you’ve had in a while.

The sight had initially startled you, but what scared you most was the normalcy of it all. The domesticity, how bright Wanda’s eyes shone in the daylight, looking at you as if you were a treasure from the depths of Atlantis. How eager she was to make you breakfast and how her touch never left yours throughout the process. 

Miles away in New York, you could still feel her. 

“Chocolate or blueberry?” Wanda asked, tilting her head to the side to look at you. 

The familiar scent of pancakes wafted through the air and you knew it was only a matter of seconds before the team came to steal them all.

Your hold remained firm on her waist as you hugged her from behind, swaying softly to the tunes of nothing. Not wanting the moment to end just yet, you remained silent, allowing yourself to bask in the peace. But Wanda had other plans, quickly squeezing at your arm to grab your attention and you rolled your eyes, amused by her impatience. 

Posing a thoughtful expression, you eyed the batter before turning to the basket of blueberries. They looked fresh, not too ripe to be sour, and not too soft to be soggy. 

“Hmmm, how good are the blueberries?” 

Wanda shrugged absentmindedly, whisking at the batter as she leaned back into you, stealing whatever warmth she could. “Pretty good, I grew them myself.” 

The mental image of Wanda in her gardening gear made you smile a little more than expected, and you hid into her shoulder, inhaling her scent. Absolutely hooked. 

“Did you?” You reply, watching as Wanda nods her head shyly and you chuckle. Unintentionally dragging your lips across her cheek as you press delicate kisses to her skin, murmuring softly in her ear, “What a talented little witch.” 

Wanda laughs, blushing as she attempts to shrug you away, not really understanding why you’re being so touchy but not opposed to it either. “Stop it.” 

Your lips tug into a lazy grin as you laugh with her, avoiding her attacks and keeping your grip firm. “It’s true Wands…you’re great at everything really. Never once have you failed to amaze me—“

“Here, try this.” That is all she says before shoving multiple berries into your mouth, distracting you before you can pay too much attention to her flustered state. 

You gasp at the sudden impact but graciously accept the blueberries into your mouth, playfully glaring at her as you chew. Her nose scrunches adorably, turning in your arms to watch you eat them, her face lighting up and offering you some more. 

Though, when you lift your hand to take them, she swats it away. Cupping your cheeks in her hands, softly stroking at your face with her thumbs, you rolled your eyes. Complying with rosy cheeks as she fed them to you.

As you held her, the world outside seemed to disappear. It was just the two of you, wrapped in a safe haven you’ve created. This moment was everything—a fragile glimpse into a future you desperately wanted but were too afraid to reach for.

Although neither of you seemed too keen on parting, Wanda’s hands were preoccupied with the feel of your skin underneath her own, repeating senseless patterns. That is until the oven goes off with a loud bang and you both break away bashfully. 

Before you can make a move, Wanda lets out a deep breath. Hands gently smoothing over your shirt, her touch lingering with tender care. She pats your chest softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth and affection.

“Blueberries it is.” 

You run a hand over your face as the memory washes over you, letting out a shaky breath. It shouldn’t affect you this much, and you didn’t want to read into it because that would require acceptance. 

The risk of ruining something you held so dearly hurts you more than the silence you keep. Heroes aren’t supposed to be afraid, and yet it’s all you felt in your heart at the thought of losing her. But your heart ached for more, just even the slightest glimpse into what could be. And when you closed your eyes, you could almost see it. An alluring figure stringing you along, captivating you with their lush green eyes, promising you that they’d be yours forever.

But those were dreams, not real life.

A real-life you wanted with Wanda.

You slowly sink into your thoughts, your mind both your stronghold and a labyrinth of sorrow. As you wipe the tears that blur your vision, you gaze down at the streets of New York. Despite the hour, the city remained wide awake. Citizens walked with pure radiance of confidence, towering buildings seeming so distant and away from where you sat. Did they know? Did anyone know that one of their beloved Spider-mans was capable of turning a mess so easily?

The weight of it all feels suffocating and no amount of air can prevent the tightness that clogs at your throat, heavy breaths leaving your body as you recount your errors. You were raised to believe that love was this grand, amazing thing. But now you want to scoff at everyone who fed into your hopelessness, fed into those lies. If love was so wonderful, then how come it hurt so much? 

But then, without warning your senses are ringing, and your eyes widen as a figure lands in your space with a slight stumble. The clouds of smoke that surround them make it hard for you to tell who it is and you raise your hand, ready to attack. 

And then, recognition dawns on you as the smoke settles. Your body easily relaxes and loosens the grip on your strayed mask next to you. With a trembling exhale, you lower your hand to take a moment to breathe, drawing in a deep calming breath and your lungs silently thank you.

“Hey, kid.” Tony greets, exiting his suit with a lopsided smile. One that doesn’t quite meet his eyes but you know better than to pry.

“Tony?” You furrow your brows, wanting to ask why he’s here but the bag in his hands tells you all you need to know. “Another late-night donut run?”

“Pepper thinks I should lay off the suits for a while.” He explains with a sigh, grunting as he sits down next to you, rattling the bag in his hands for emphasis. “And donuts are the only thing that both keep me busy and fulfilled. Win-win don’t you think?”

“Depends on what type of donuts you picked.” You mused with a hum. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Long John.” He retorts with a smirk, reaching into his bag to place a donut in your hands. Patting your shoulder as he did so. “Here, for your troubles.” 

You cocked your head curiously, examining the sweet with a soft smile. “A maple bar, sweet.” 

Thanking him, you took slow soft bites, savoring the sweet taste in your mouth as you looked towards the city in thought. You felt Tony’s stare and tried your best to ignore it, not wanting pity. 

“In my entire years of living, not once have I ever seen someone looking so sad while holding a donut.” He commented, taking a bite of his own donut and you release a sigh. “It’s really depressing to look at.” 

He spoke between bites, causing you to grimace. Backing away, you studied your mentor incredulously, analyzing his facial features in the hope it’d give you a clue as to why exactly he was here. Finding nothing, but an unusual softness to his features, you raised a wary brow.

“Did you come all this way just to patronize me, Stark?” You sneered with a glare. Feeling like the donut was really just bait to lure you into a conversation. 

Which you had admittedly been postponing from both Steve and him, using the city as an excuse to step away from your problems. It was only a matter of time before they caught up with you again. 

And here he was, the tightness behind his eyes diminishing as he stared at you, carefully, with laces of soft affection instead. You weren’t sure if you liked this look.

“A little birdie—or should I say spider, told me about your troubles with our resident Maximoff and I figured it’s time you got advice from the love doctor.” His hand came to his chest, motioning to himself and you scoffed in disbelief before turning into one of disgust. “And listen, I love Pietro, but I really don’t think—“

“Pietro?! Ew, god, no.” You say hurriedly, eager to dispel those rumors. Your distaste quickly turns into irritation as you realize with an offended gasp. “Is Peter seriously going around and spreading this?! Tony what the fuck.”

“Right, witchy then.” He sucks his teeth, waving a finger your way and you shove at his shoulders with embarrassment. Not letting that deter him, he scratches his chin, posing a thoughtful expression as he begins, “Love is scary, isn’t it? You’re scared. Scared of messing things up, scared of hurting her, losing her—“

“This is really inspiring Tony.”

“Pipe down Pipsqueak I’m not finished,” He huffed, clearing his throat before returning to his speech. “The point in all this is that you’re afraid. And that’s okay, so long as you don’t let those fears hold you back. Hell I’m still scared Pepper will leave me for someone more sensible, someone who won’t constantly be putting her in danger.”

His admission doesn’t come easy, and you notice the frown and crease in his eyebrows as he says so. Releasing another breath, you think about his words, and how fear could hold someone back. Reflecting on the past days, all you notice is clear examples of how it’s done this, stopping you from chasing what you really want. Still, you shake your head, voice cracking as you admit:

“I just don't want her to get hurt, or get hurt.“

Tony blinks, looking at you with an emotion you don’t know. But in his eyes, he sees himself, speaking gently, “You’ll never know if you don’t try, Y/n.”

“Think about it.” Comes the last thing he’s to say as he stands up with a grunt. Hands dusting himself off and bending over to grab his bag, pointing to you with a reassuring grin.

The words swirl around your head like a roundabout, leading to only one conclusion and you know what you have to do. Face those fears, even if the words get stuck in your throat. Before Tony can get too far, you stand up, stammering on your words as you thank him. 

Tony nods inside his suit, propelling himself as he speaks. “Anytime, stay in school, and help Peter with his history homework will you?”

You shake your head, chuckling softly and Tony ruffles your hair, flying off with a booming “Ciao!” Leaving you alone to collect yourself, bidding him goodbye. 

Placing the last bit of the donut in your mouth, you slip on your mask. Launching yourself through the city to reach your destination, flying past buildings and deep into the wooded suburbs where you’d find the compound. 

There wasn’t a world in which you could successfully avoid Wanda, not forever at least. It was torture for yourself too these past few days, and you’d be dammed if you did it again. 

As you reached the vicinity, fear washed over you again, your heart beating rapidly the closer you approached. Tony’s words rang in your mind and you huffed, ignoring whatever your senses were telling you and letting your emotions speak louder. 

Rest could wait until later, for now, you had a witch to confront—confess to. 

You decided to take the easier route, being her window as you had down many nights prior. As you swung towards the wall, you found yourself stuck. Hanging from the rooftop, hand frozen midair as you stared at your reflection, was this really a good idea? In the middle of the night? 

It was a tranquil, beautiful night, with fresh air flowing through the trees, and the only source of light being the soft glow of the moon. Your eyes softly traced through the beauty of nature, losing yourself in the picturesque landscape. Perfect conditions for an Avenger to catch some sleep in and you quickly found yourself double thinking by her window. Anxiety crawls through you—what if she was asleep already and didn’t wanna see you? Surely you shouldn’t interfere with Wanda’s beauty sleep. Or should you—?

“Did you really come all this way to see me just to hang outside of my window like a creep?” Your heart startled at the sudden voice and you didn’t even notice when Wanda had opened the window but there she was, a crooked smile on her lips with a curious tilt to her head.

The moonlight only enhanced Wanda's beauty further, and you knew you were staring. But you couldn’t tear your gaze away, mesmerized, counting every freckle you could spot; dreaming of one day kissing each speck you could find. 

You wondered if women like Wanda inspired philosophers to write the most beautiful sayings because you’re certain if you had the intelligence you’d do the same. It’s only when Wanda cleared her throat, a small blush tinting her cheeks, that you turned away. 

You sighed to try and collect yourself, letting your previous anxieties disappear. “Well, you know how much I love hanging out with you.” You joked, grinning at the groan Wanda let out as she shook her head disapprovingly.

“Dork.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged.

“Most definitely.” She says before moving closer, touching the ridges of your mask, and your heart races when she pulls it down just the slightest. You lean eagerly against her palm without a second thought, savoring her touch. It feels as if time freezes, and you realize how intensely you’ve missed Wanda these past days.

You think Wanda feels the same with how she looks at you, hand tracing the small scar etched into your chin with a frown. Her hand shutters a bright red and you lean into it like second nature, knowing what she seeks; to feel you. Something that came often after missions back home, a reminder that you were still here, but as you opened your eyes to stare back into her own, it felt different. Dangerously close to intimate and emotions build against your throat, constricting you because you can’t handle how close you are. How close you could be to changing things. Your defenses fly up again and you’re inching away despite not being able to get far with Wanda keeping you still–so you rack your brain, trying to find something to say to ease the tension—deflect, maybe a joke? 

But any witty retort you had is quickly forgotten as Wanda hesitantly leans closer, testing the waters, and freezing you on the spot. You’re sure Wanda can hear your heart racing, but she doesn’t seem to care. It’s only when you make no motion of moving that she brings your mouths together. And you think you’ve just taken a glimpse into heaven.

It's just as sweet as you imagined and more. Her lips are soft and sweet and welcoming, easily enveloping you in all that is her, something you fall into hopelessly yet again. You want to ask why she chose now to do this, but you don’t want to part. The position is less than ideal, and sure your neck is straining but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Wanda’s the first to pull away, equally taken by surprise by her actions, a deep flush taking her the next second with a small shy smile and you feel yourself swoon. 

You hesitate as you try to speak again, find the proper words to say but Wanda stops you, taking off your mask properly and lifting herself off the frame, walking back into her room. She throws your mask aimlessly away behind her desk but you’re not paying too much attention to it.

“Why don’t you come inside for once? Catch some real sleep, on a real bed.” She suggests invitingly, throwing you a playful look over her shoulder. You let out a breathless chuckle, flipping yourself over to enter her window, and closing it behind you in one smooth motion.

Wanda doesn’t say much else as you help her un-tuck the sheets, shooting you an appreciative glance and you pause, realizing it is her from your dreams. She’s the girl. The girl you can’t escape at night. It baffles you how you didn’t see her sooner. And suddenly you understand. 

You understand why you’re always thinking of her, why even in your sleep you don’t wish to leave. It’s not just some crush you’ve been harboring, no, it’s something more intimate. And you want to say it’s love, but you want to say it better. Not when you’re both so absorbed in the moment, so you wait, because for Wanda Maximoff you’d wait for any length.

“I do sleep.” You spoke softly, ignoring how nervous her stare was making you and the stare made you believe that she already knew. You sucked in a breath, knowing if you didn’t say it now you wouldn’t say it ever, “I’d just sleep better with you.”

Wanda’s eyes widened in surprise before softening in a way that made your resolve crumble and you looked away with a clumsy smile. It feels like a silly confession to make, but unbeknownst to you, it’s enough confirmation for Wanda.

Shuffling into the sheets, you turn to meet Wanda only for her to advance on you the next second into a much more tender kiss than before. It’s soft and a reassurance that she feels the same way, her lips tasting of strawberries and love. You melt into the kiss once again, placing your hand on her wrist that holds your face in place, deepening it to convey. 

“I’ll keep you to that,” Wanda murmurs between kisses, placing one last peck on your lips before curling in closer to your body, hiding in the crook of your neck. You chuckle and wrap your arms around her. 

Her presence enveloped you instantaneously, reducing every muscle in your body into mush; a wave of relief washed over you, almost in disbelief that this was real. It was almost overwhelming, how easily you found peace in her arms. Tears pooled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill as you realized that this simple moment was all you had ever wanted–a night of rest with the girl you cared for most, free from all the world's problems and whatever else dared to ruin you. 

As if she could sense something was wrong, the witch shuffled closer, her lips tenderly grazing against the skin of your neck and you tensed as she pressed. Her lips lingered against your skin, repeating the process over and over until you relaxed as if to say I know, it’s okay. When her legs intertwined with yours, you didn’t resist, understanding that she needed you just as much as you needed her. Instead, you held her tighter as if she could slip away if you didn’t. 

Truly believing that this was where you were supposed to be.  

[volleychumps]

Kurōo cheating on his s/o for his new manager but quickly falling out of love with her and she realizes so she quits as manager. But when he comes back to you he realizes you’re with someone else so he begs you to lie to him and say “I love you”.

Won’t You Lie to Me?

- the one in which Kuroo Tetsurou would do anything to hear the lies that stain your tongue

xFem! reader

Warning(s): cheating! angst, lots of tears, reader doesn't want Kuroo's touch in the last part, read with caution this was a painful write but I love angst soooo

---------------------------------------------

If you could go back in time, you wonder if you would take the detour to stop by your boyfriend’s volleyball practice again. It’s a bitter afterthought really, an afterthought to the scene before you. 

She yelped, manager tracksuit zipping up quickly in the process as one of her hands flies to her hair, attempting to smooth down the mess of it as if it would magically fall back into place.

But you're not staring at her. How could you? Why stare at her when the raven-haired boy standing behind her with a slackened jaw and crumpled t-shirt was just such an interesting sight to see?

"Someone's hard at work." your tone is sarcastic, but the slight crack in the tinge of your words is enough for Kuroo to take a step towards you, watching the light fade from your eyes as the cowering manager of their team stares like you're a bomb about to explode.

"Y/N-"

"Don't."

Your reaction is mild and tame, simply tilting your head to the side as you don't break eye contact with him. It was a silly high school love story to begin with, perhaps one of those where happy endings don't exist and things are too good to be true.

If you knew that, then why does it feel like every inch of you won't stop trembling?

"Go to hell, Tetsurou." But he knows. He sees it in your eyes, the finality in your tone that sealed things in place. He knows you mean it. He knows you never say things you don't mean, the same way he knows things will never ever be what they once were.

So why can't he will his legs to move towards you?

Instead, dark eyes watch you hang your head with a heavy sigh, as if you were suddenly exhausted before shoving something in the manager's hands, ignoring the yelp that left her swollen lips.

"It's for the headache he claimed he had." Your voice was monotone as you refused to lift your gaze. "He's your problem now."

"Y/N."

It almost broke you. Almost. The gentleness in his tone, the way in which a shaky hand lifted towards you, but you simply took a step back. Staring down at the manager you once called a friend, you giggle humorlessly before simply turning on your heel and walking away.

"She's so calm about it, Tetsu-kun." The manager sniffed at your absence, trying to put a hand on one of his broad shoulders. "She must have never loved you, I told you so."

But Kuroo knew better. He wasn't sure why he gave in. He wasn't sure why for a second he believed what Yue was saying before she came onto him, not denying her when she advanced. Something about your plans to break up with him? Something about how you had giggled to Yue about how you were planning on leaving him for someone better?

He can't recall why or what was said. All he knows is as he's watching you, he strangely feels quite empty inside. This must mean he doesn't have any outright feelings for you anymore, right?

If he isn't hurting when he watches you go, isn't this for the best?

He's lost in his thoughts when the gym doors come to a tight shut, your knees hitting the soft grass outside as your legs give out from underneath you, a silent wail wracking your whole body as your heart splits into pieces, taking the form of salty tears that slide down your cheeks.

--

Kuroo Tetsurou still isn't really feeling much of anything.

He didn't feel much when he told Yue he still didn't want to be with her despite the deceptive steps taken. Not when she slapped him across the face. Not when Kenma had eyed him with a look of pure disgust with a sharp warning not to speak to him for the next couple days.

The only twinge he felt was when you handed in your resignation as manager, the gym an eerie quiet before the first years hug you tightly, teary-eyed as they exclaim that they didn't want you to go but they understand. Yaku glared at him the whole time, but Kuroo kept setting up the net as the first years tackle you in their last couple of embraces, glancing your way as you stroke their hair lovingly and explain you'll still find the time to hang out.

Kuroo was waiting for you to be on your way, out the door to catch you and say one last thing-

"Y/N, you have to know I'm so-"

"Sorry." Your voice is a little breathless, like you just had the wind knocked out of you. "But let's not, okay Tets-" You catch yourself, inhaling a shaky breath before managing a small smile.

"Okay, Kuroo? I'm happy being strangers. I don't hate you, okay?"

Your shoulder taps his as you stride past, a finality in your footsteps.

"I just wish we never met."

Kuroo stands there, a single emotion stirring in his chest as his gaze stares straight ahead, his shoulder on fire from where you had gently grazed it.

Confusion. Confusion swirls in his chest as his eyes brim with unshed tears he can't exactly match an emotion to.

--

A couple weeks pass...maybe a month or two? But the raven-haired third year doesn't even notice it. He goes through the motions of school and club activities, his team eventually having to slowly begin speaking to him again as preliminaries near the corner.

Kenma taps his head against the doorway of his room, staring at him blankly.

"Hey cheater."

"Funny." But Kuroo isn't laughing, sitting up in bed to eye him with an even stare. Kenma doesn't like the look in his eyes, the usual sarcastic and confident glint in his irises and smile nowhere to be seen. "What's up."

Kenma shrugs, taking a comfortable seat on the floor before pulling out his handheld device, Kuroo blinking once in surprise before laying back down in bed, listening to the click of the buttons and the movements of the joystick.

The cat-eyed boy glances at him, looking back down at his device before taking something out of his pocket and placing it on the end of his bed.

"Y/N wanted me to return this to you."

Kuroo eyes the red scarf at the end of the bed, Kenma focusing on the next level of his game before he sits up again to examine the fluffy fabric, the characters for Nekoma High School on the corner of one end.

His chest seems to twist.

"Don't be a brat, Y/N, it's cold out here."

"What if you get sick, idiot?"

""Stop calling your best friend an idiot! You're the worst, you know."

"Don't kid yourself. Kenma's my best friend."

A lump forms in his throat.

"Fine, whatever." Kuroo had smirked down at you from his towering height, wrapping the scarf around your neck despite your wishes as you eyed him weirdly. He leans down to your height, his eyes twinkling with something you can't pinpoint.

"I don't wanna be just your best friend anyway."

You glare at him a little, tip of your nose colored from the cold before standing on your toes to lean up and kiss him, smiling as your bag hits the snow beneath you, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck as the first snow falls around you.

"Promise me." Your sweet voice is hushed, eyes staring at him brimmed with straight adoration as you cup his cold cheeks, Kuroo's onyx eyes holding yours carefully.

"Let's go see next year's first snowfall together."

"Cheesy." Kuroo's grin is cocky as you swat his chest in slight embarrassment, but he grabs your hand anyways, stopping your attacks before leaning a little closer to your face, so close your breaths are mingling. His fingers are touching the scarf wrapped so carefully around your pretty neck, stroking your cheek with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed.

"We'll get a front row seat, kitten, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Tetsu?"

"Hm?"

You smiled, snow in your hair as you kissed him again.

Kuroo Tetsurou could now feel again.

"I love you."

And it was his heart absolutely breaking as regret fills the beginning of the onslaught of tears.

Kenma looks up, eyes widening a fraction as his childhood friend hunches over the now clenched red scarf, his body trembling as sob after sob pours out of him, the fabric smelling of you as he holds it close to his seemingly irreparable heart.

No, it wasn't that he couldn't feel.

His body was numb and in shock with the loss of you.

--

Kuroo Tetsurou wasn't a complete idiot.

He knew the damage done was nearly permanent. There would be no fixing things, the "nearly" part of that statement lingering on the sense of false hope he had that you would at least begin talking to him.

Strangely enough, it wasn't that difficult. You began nodding to at least acknowledge his existence when dropping off a packaged treats at practice. You even began saying hello when he was with Kenma, Kuroo only being able to manage an awkward greeting back before watching you walk off with a longing in his eyes.

"Doesn't Y/N-senpai seem so much brighter these days?" Inuoka slurps his yogurt pouch, brightening up as he mentions your name. He finishes tying his shoes, stretching out his arms overhead with a careless yawn.

"Maybe she's seeing someone new."

Kuroo misses a spike, chest heavy as the first year looks up at his captain, startled.

"Relax." Kenma scolds him, not missing a beat. "It's probably not true."

Yeah.

Kuroo jogs back to center court, watching Kenma's fingers set the ball up perfectly.

It's probably not true.

He misses the spike again.

--

"After we win this, I'm going to ask Y/N for another chance."

Kenma doesn't look surprised, eyeing Kuroo seriously before releasing a heavy sigh.

"Kuroo, you should really know that-"

"Oi. Get a move on, you two, this is the last preliminary match before the qualifying match to Nationals." Yaku cuts off the team's setter, Kenma groaning a little as Kuroo jogs ahead of him onto the court, Fukurodani waiting for them on the other side.

Kenma waves to you in the stands, and you smile, waving both hands in the air at the entire team as Kuroo's heart skips a beat.

That smile was still his, it has to be.

Bokuto greets his friend with a wide grin, slapping Kuroo on the back with a little less energy than usual as the two teams begin their warm ups, the two captains meeting once in awhile since the training camp.

"Hey hey Kuroo!" The owlish boy crosses his arms, smirking a little as the crate of balls gets rolled out onto the court. "You look great, better than I was expecting!"

"So you heard?" Kuroo sighs, a hand coming up to rest on the back of his neck. "about me and Y/N breaking up?"

"Hm? Oh, that too. I just thought it would've been a little weird seeing as she's dating Akaashi now and all."

What?

His hand freezes midair, voice caught in his throat by the huge lump that forms. Slowly, even though his body was screaming at him not to, he looks back up at the stands.

Akaashi had draped his jacket around your shoulders, slight smile on his lips as he seems to be immersed in conversation with you, Bokuto allowing him to run up real quick to see you before the match began. The setter's blue eyes were brimmed with so much adoration, the beginning sparks of new love evident between the two of you as you shyly nodded along to what he was saying.

Akaashi looks down at the court once before looking back at you, bringing your hand up to kiss once affectionately with a content smile on his face before placing a quick one on your cheek, jogging back down the stairs afterwards.

You don't know what to expect when you look back down at the court, warmth in your cheeks and chest with a foreign form of love you're not accustomed to yet. You want to meet Akaashi's eyes, cheer on Kenma and the Nekoma team, wave a greeting to Bokuto-

but the look of Kuroo's absolutely broken stare was not within the scope of your expectations.

Among the feelings Kuroo Tetsurou was learning how to feel again,

Panic was not one of them.

Panic is all he knows as the whistle blows in his ears, the game calling for someone to serve the first ball.

--

"Y/N."

"Kuroo." You say his name so easily, as if you're not the same person you were that day in the volleyball practice that never existed.

The one where he took your heart and completely discarded it.

"Where are the others-?"

"Washing up after the game." Kuroo can't meet your eyes, his head swimming with the things he rehearsed for hours on end, yet unable to communicate them.

"Oh." You say softly, and Kuroo hates it. He hates how you grow awkward and uncomfortable, like he wasn't the one kissing down your neck as you giggled for him to quit teasing. Like he wasn't your first love.

Like he didn't mean anything to you anymore.

"Y/N." Panic. Panic is what paints his voice as he steps closer to you, reaching an arm out to tug you into his chest, pretending like he doesn't feel you grow rigid at his touch. "Please."

"Let go, Kuroo." Your voice lost it's soft edge, void of emotion-

just like he used to be. You love him right?

"Say it."

"What-?"

"Won't you lie to me? Say that you love me, please say it."

False hope. He recognizes the next feeling when you shakily put your arms around him as well, your tears beginning to soak through his shirt.

Please say it.

"T-Tetsu." Your trembling in his hold. "I..I love you."

Confusion is next. He feels it when you break out of his hold, pushing him back abruptly with an ocean of emotions across your face, the feeling of holding him simply wrong.

Kuroo doesn't even know he's crying, not until your placing a careful hand on his cheek to swipe at his tears messily before laughing a little at the situation.

"Tetsu, let's put us in the past." Your voice is quiet, the air freezing as your warmth creates a slight puff from the contrast. "It's over for us now, don't you see? There's too much hurt-"

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't go to him. Please, I love-"

"I won't lie to you again." The tone in your voice is gentle, Kuroo's breath stuck in his throat again as his eyes well up with fresh tears. "I don't feel the same anymore, you broke my heart first...why do I have to take responsibility for yours?"

Kuroo says nothing, another familiar feeling inching towards his chest.

"But look-" You point up at the sky, snow falling down almost mockingly for the first time this season, a sad smile on your lips and wet tears down your cheeks. "It's the first snowfall."

You've never looked more beautiful, with snow in your hair and warmth in your lips.

"You kept your promise."

You turn around after that, continuing to cry as you walk off to go find Akaashi to apologize for the lie you let stain your tongue as Kuroo falls to his knees, his skin numb from the cold-

but his chest isn't numb.

No, he knows this feeling. He knows this feeling a bit too well, the snow seeming to shower at his expense in a rueful manner as he stares at the dark swirl of the sky above.

Heartbreak.

--

[charlottes-diary-entries]

hi lovely!! can i please get a poly!marauders x fem reader where she’s always shy to ask for attention and maybe she just really wants them to smother her in cuddles and all (not as if they dont already) so she tries to discreetly cozy up to them at any given opportunity and they notice and they’re all like heck if its attention you want then its damn attention you’ll get

THANK YOU <33

apologies for how ridiculously late this is, life STAYS busy, but of course you can have that lovely! i hope you enjoy :) <3

"cuddle puddles" 1.3 k words, poly!marauders (remus centric) x reader, extremely fluffy <3

The last few months had felt like absolute heaven for you. Classes were going swimmingly, you'd won several points for your house, and generally felt like you were walking on air.

Not to mention, you were just plain in love.

The Marauders were well known for their boisterous and loving nature, but experiencing it first hand was entirely different. Ever since they'd woven you into their lives, there wasn't a moment you'd felt lost. Everything clicked. Always you had someone to turn to, someone to heal, someone to hold. The "Honeymoon" phase felt endless.

Constantly you would find yourself swept into James's arms in the halls, or Remus would be waiting to walk you to your next class hand in hand. The way Sirius would hang off of you often turned into a gentle lecture about how "most people don't like seeing couples snogging in the halls, so lets keep our hands in PG places, Sirius!"

All too often, however, it would also be a matter of dropping hint after hint after hint to your boys that you wanted more.

It really wasn't their fault at all! It just seemed like whenever you craved more attention, you'd tense up. Words escaped you and all you could do was stare and shuffle and pray they'd read your mind.

The unfortunate piece of the matter, however, was that now happened to be one of those times.

Sat upon a soft red blanket laid out across the grass, you let your eyes fall shut against the calm afternoon. A soft breeze brushed your cheek as you inhaled. Despite the sound of Sirius and James arguing over Quidditch players, all you could feel was complete and utter peace. With a delightful picnic settled in your stomach and your boys surrounding you everything was nearly right in the world.

A quiet chuckle emanated from Remus, who was sat next to you, and the sound of shuffling about reached you next. One of your eyes slipped open to observe Remus's new position before shutting and shifting accordingly to be seated directly next to him.

You did not see the fond smile that graced his face as he looked at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the sight of you so relaxed. Sirius and James were now settling somewhat.

"What's on your mind, dovey?"

A low hum left you as you opened your eyes to find his, which made you smile just the same as he was.

"Nothing much."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing at all."

He couldn't resist leaning over to press a gentle kiss to your cheek before returning to his spot. As he pulled back, you leaned to follow him, before righting yourself. The corner of your lips tugged down before turning to watch Sirius now flirt and paw at James, no doubt in an attempt to sway his opponent to his side. It seemed to be working.

Quietly, you pressed yourself against Remus's side and leaned your head on his shoulder. He let his head fall on top of yours in response. This began to return a smile to your face.

"You sure there's nothing on your mind?"

"Entirely confident."

Nothing but you, you thought, but did not say.

He turned his head to press a kiss to your temple before wrapping an arm around your waist to ensure you were pressed against him. James now realized Sirius's goal and was playfully chastising him for using his "beautiful face" against him. You turned your face into Remus's shoulder.

"Right, it's just you seem awfully touchy, and-"

"Remus."

"I'll drop it! I'll drop it... Only if you can tell me honestly there's nothing more I can do for you."

"Remus!"

You flushed and pulled fully away from him this time, arms fully crossing and mouth down-turned into a pout. A crinkly, bittersweet feeling filled your heart as James gave in and let Sirius smother him. He pressed kiss after kiss after kiss to the seeker's face and eventually got him pinned to the ground in what must've been the largest and sweetest hug in history. Remus then gently coaxed your hand away from you and into his, making you lift your gaze to meet his concerned one.

"Please sweet thing," He began, running a soothing finger over your knuckles, "Tell me what's wrong? Watching you fret is making me fret and that can't be very good for either of us."

With a quiet sigh, you twisted your hand to intertwine your fingers and squeeze at his palm. He squeezed back.

"I just... find it embarrassing."

"What embarrassing?"

You felt your face warm even more as you groaned and dragged your free hand against your cheek. A mental search began to find the words you needed to explain to Remus that really nothing is wrong at all and in fact you just felt completely repressed about the whole affection thing.

"The whole... Well..." You huffed, squeezing his hand again. Now, Remus was nothing but the epitome of patience for you. "You know how you all love me so much? And you show a lot of that love through- through touch?"

At this Remus paused, worry pooling in his eyes as he inched away from you. He even began to drop your hand. "We haven't made you uncomfortable, have we love?"

"No- No, no, no, that's not it at all, in fact, I really, really wish you'd-"

A pause in your minor panic over correcting him. Any kind of words fled your mind and you settled for simply squeezing his hand yet again, feeling completely miserable about your inability to actually pursue what you wanted with confidence.

However, your misery was short lived as a light bulb seemed to go off in Remus's head and he tugged you close again, this time pulling you right onto his lap to face him. He smiled and pulled your face into his hands.

"Dovey, do you just want us to be more affectionate?"

This returned your smile, albeit awkward, as you nodded your head. Remus beamed and pulled you in for a sweet kiss before holding you tightly against him, his head resting on your shoulder. He began to speak when-

"Oi! What are you two doing over there?"

Your sweet moment was semi-interrupted by Sirius who came towards the two of you with a freshly kissed grin. He knelt next you both and pressed warm kisses to both of your heads. James followed not far behind him and laid down on your other side, completely sprawled out and grinning like a fool.

"Just making sure dovey gets all the love and attention they deserve," said Remus, who now turned his head into your neck to press a kiss there. "Apparently we've been neglecting the poor thing."

"I did not say neglect-"

Your protest was cut short, however, by a gasping Sirius. He all but body slammed you off of Remus, who only rolled his eyes, and on top of James, who let out a loud "whoof" sound at the sudden attack. Despite the wind knocked out of him, he didn't entirely seem to mind and quickly began to rub your arm with a pout.

"Is everything alright, lovie?"

"Everything is fine."

"Of course it is, now that we know you just need some extra holding," Remus teased, shifting Sirius off of him only to join him in hugging you on top of James, who was continuing to take the impromptu cuddle pile in his lap very, very well.

"If it's affection you want, dove, it is affection you shall have!" Sirius declared, before beginning to press kiss after kiss to your face, much in the same manner he had done to James. A sweet giggle escaped you before he eventually settled, content to hold you and Remus while James presided over all three of you, running his free hand through Remus's hair.

A little while later, after you all had been resting together and holding each other for quite a while, James's gentle voice broke the silence.

"I like this. We should do cuddle puddles more often."

You couldn't agree more.

[arpicityandneed]

Hi! If it's still open, somniphillia andsticky? And/or 18+ peter?

a/n: anon... what if I kiss you on the lips for giving me my first peter ask?

18+ f!reader. established relationship. college student Spiderman!Peter. somnophilia. creampie.

He came in through the window, his movements silent and all his senses attuned to you sleeping on your bed in the corner of the studio apartment.

Peter wasn't a cocky guy, but seeing your lush form wrapped up half naked in the sheets made him feel ten feet tall. You were his. Just his. And in every way you trusted him to take care of you, protect you, love you.

He'd already been aching for you after being out all night again, but damn seeing the curve of your ass as you slept in one of his shirts had him hard in seconds.

He pulled the sheet off you slowly without waking you-- wanting to keep you soft and sweet as long as possible. He thought you were adorable when you were sleepy, clingy and whiny in a way you never let yourself be when you were fully awake.

The spiderman suit came off in only a few pieces and he was left in his boxers, a prominent wet spot where his cock wouldn't stop leaking. Those got pushed down his thighs and tossed over his shoudler before he climbed into bed behind you.

You mumbled his name but didn't wake, which wasn't surprising since it was damn near 3am.

Peter groaned softly when he gently reached between your legs and found you wet and slick. Poor baby, taking care of yourself when I'm busy.

He slipped one finger into you, finding your hole relaxed and eager around his finger before he added another. By the third finger your hips were moving on instinct and he was smirking to himself. His needy lil girl couldn't be patient even in her sleep.

It was easy to line himself up with your hole, it was harder to go slow enough not to wake you. Inch by inch he buried himself in your wet heat until his tip was kissing your cervix.

You moaned and clenched around him but beyond your eyelids fluttering you were still dreaming.

"I gotcha," Peter mumbled as he rocked into you, slow and steady easing you onto your stomach.

Each thrust was compounded by the simple trust between you two. Peter's mind flashed back to the first time you brought this up.

"Just fuck me in my sleep, babe. I miss you too much anyway." You'd been half joking at first, but when Peter had interjected incredulously,

"What, you want me to use you and let you wake up with my cum leaking out of you?"

Your eyes went dark and you weren't joking anymore when you nodded. "That.. that actually sounds hot."

So Peter didn't feel any shame as he used your perfect pussy to get off, your slick coating his balls as he grunted and tried to keep himself quiet. His eyes rolled back into the back of his head everytime you clenched around him on instinct and he got close faster than he ever thought possible.

Just a slut for my cock huh baby? Don't worry, I'll leave you a big surprise for the morning, perv.

He couldn't resist whispering in your ear as his body covered yours, his thick shaft stretching you out so beautifully. He wondered if you'd still feel sore the next morning- the thought made his balls ache.

When he came he had to bite his fist as he groaned, loading you up with spurt after spurt of his cum. HIs hand reached out grab the headboard not realizing he left a hadnprint dent from squeezing too hard.

He pulled out slowly and watched his cum leak out of your gaping pussy, scrambling for his phone to snap a pic before laying down beside you. Cuddling close and kissing your shoulder sweetly.

Fuck he loved you.

[monimccoythings]

Mending each other's hearts I (Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!Reader)

I just love heatrbreaking stories that end with happy endings, this one might actually have a part two. I have to take all of this creative rush suddenly flowing and write as much as I can before I'm back to nothing. This reader's powers are invisibility.

It really hurt. To have someone you are madly in love with so out of reach, in love with somebody else. To know that no matter what you did, he would never look at you the same way he looked at her. Jean. She was perfect, gorgeous, smart, kind, and powerful. The golden child of Xavier’s School. Truly a Marvel girl.

You couldn’t help but envy your friend, not only has caught the eyes of two men, but also was the apple of your mentor’s eye. You couldn’t say it was undeserved. As much as you adored Jean as a friend, sometimes you resented her for having it all and not seeming to notice.

It twisted your heart every time you caught one of his longing looks, or his soft smiles. You felt the burning sensation of tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat. You forcefully swallowed it down, the least you wanted was everyone pitying you over some unrequited crush. 

You couldn’t afford to tell anyone, so every time there was a big alpha male fight between Scott and Logan over her affections you quietly stayed as far as you could. Knowing that staying and hearing him fight for her love would completely break you.

That didn’t mean you didn’t quietly cry in the shower or when you were alone in bed. Those were the only places where the tears could flow freely and you allowed your sobs to wreck your body.

You once thought that being his close friend, his confidant, someone he fully trusted would be enough. That you could move on past your silly infatuation until it was nothing more than a buzzing noise in your head. Time could heal everything, you would get used to the heart ache and live normally.

However, Cupid was a resentful bitch.

It only took you being in the wrong place at the wrong time, to finally break into tiny little pieces. As you were getting some papers to grade, you realized you had left your phone back in the class. If only you hadn’t noticed until much later; maybe you would have saved yourself from watching the man who you loved the most passionately kissing your friend, his real one true love.

Your body turned cold, for once, you wished your invisibility powers kicked in and made you disappear. But you couldn’t. You felt blocked, glued to the carpet, unable to move, to think, to breathe as your entire world crashed around you. That’s the worst part of deceiving oneself, when reality comes knocking it hits you harder than any punch.

Maybe if you had stayed longer, you would have seen Jean gently pushing Logan away, with a heartbroken look in her face, quietly shaking her head with silent tears running down her cheeks. Maybe you would have seen the look of utter defeat in Logan’s face, knowing the heart of his beloved was already taken. Maybe, maybe, maybe… but you didn’t.

You don’t remember how you managed to return to your room, how you found yourself able to walk all the way without collapsing. For a second, you wondered if it had been real, an hallucination caused by the stress of being a teacher in a school full of mutant teenagers. As much as you tried to convince yourself, the tear drops staining the papers were proof that what had just happened was very much real.

It felt like something inside you had died that day.

People could see it, the light in you getting duller, your voice was starting to lose the warmth it once held. You tried to fake it, to pretend that everything was fine, that you were the same as always. But it was as plain as day how much you were grieving.

Until one day you casually took a look at yourself in the mirror. What a sorry sight.

Your skin was pale, more fitting of an ill person than a healthy mutant; your eyes looked glossy, probably due to the sleepless nights you had spent crying your heart out until you could barely feel anything; your hair, usually as tidy as you could get it, fell limp over your shoulders, unkept.

You felt sorry for yourself, pathetic, weak. That's what you were.

The only one to blame for this was looking straight at you through red rimmed eyes. This love, this bleeding twisted love, needed to go out, vanish for all eternity. You had no plans of moving, you had nowhere to go, as long as you stayed at the mansion you would have to constantly be reminded of what you so wholeheartedly desired but could never have. Unless you put an end to that.

How did that saying go? “A new worry helps to take the pain away”, Logan needed to be out of your system if you wanted to keep both him and Jean in your life. And there was only one way to do it. A good old wild night in town. Would it completely erase what you felt for that rugged old man? Surely not, but it was a great first step.

You would have loved to invite Ororo and Jean with you to have a decent girls night for once, but this was something you needed to do on your own. So without telling anybody, you took Friday off and got ready to put an end to this pain once and for all.

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There was something off with you, he could feel it. For the past couple of months you had not been entirely yourself and that was upsetting him to no end.

Your friends had tried to help you open up, out of concern to no avail. Apparently, your problems were something that you had decided you would go through on your own. But Logan didn’t agree with you. It burned him watching someone he deeply cared about lose a bit of light with each passing day, and it burned him even more not being able to do anything to help. He felt useless, doomed to watch you consume yourself more and more until there was anything left.

His pain over Jean’s rejection had left him somber and broken, but watching you slowly succumb into a pit of despair had damaged him in ways no one should have. You, his closest friend, if he was able to have something like that, his little ‘Casper’ who was always so kind, so considerate, even to an asshole like him; were suffering and he couldn’t protect you from that pain.

Logan remembered how soft your hands were, how warm your touch was and how bright your smile was. And now there was only left an empty carcass, a living shadow of what you once were. He found himself mourning over something he would never have again.

Fuck, he wanted you back. He missed you. He needed you back. It was so emotional, he couldn’t give a single fuck about it. 

He was going to get you back.

When Hank told him that you had suddenly taken that day off, Logan panicked, fearing the worst. Nearly on fours he ran up the stairs, praying to whatever deity he didn’t believe in that you hadn’t left.

And you hadn’t.

He wasn’t prepared for what he found in your room. You, sitting in front of the mirror of your vanity, applying the last touches of mascara to your eyes. Your hair was done in a very elegant way, combed and curled till it reached perfection; your eyeshadow, combined with the mascara, highlighted the color of your eyes making them shine. Your lips were painted in a red as dark as blood that was practically begging to be smeared across your mouth.

And the icing on the cake were that tantalizing red dress that hugged all your curves in the best way, and those impossibly high heels that made your legs endless.

He was speechless. So speechless he didn’t notice how you momentarily paled only to recover your composure once again.

“Did you… did you want something?” You asked, shyly. Panicking at the thought of your plan ending before it had even started.

Logan didn’t answer, too busy taking all of you in. His eyes quickly darted from one part to another. The air coming out of him in short breaths, his sturdy chest rising and falling. Fists clenching and unclenching.

“Where are you going?”His voice sounded raspy.

“Out.” You simply stated, it hurted but you had to remain cold for this to work.

“With who?” It didn’t go unnoticed to you the dangerous edge in his voice. Why would he even care about it?

“I’m flying solo tonight, hopefully not for long, if you know what I mean.”  You tried to play it cool, like you were just teasing a friend, as the old you would, but Logan could smell bullshit coming a mile away, so obviously he didn’t buy it.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Oh you knew that face he was making, he was getting angrier by the second. You still could feel the remains of the heartbreak sinking like daggers in your badly beaten heart.

“I mean that I’m not planning on sleeping here tonight, Lo.”

He didn’t like at all the ugly, primal feeling that arose in his chest at your words. That sudden urge to destroy, to tear apart your dress and lock you in your room, away from prying eyes. It must have shown in his face, because you uneasily sank back into your chair.

You weren’t going to let him scare you away from this. His big bad man act may have worked on other people, but you knew him well enough to know that was purely a façade. Mustering all the bravery and courage left in you, you picked the remaining pieces of your heart and stood up determined to keep going whether he wanted it or not. A low warning growl emanated from his body when you walked past him. “Bye, Lo.” He didn’t like how final those two words sounded.

And for a couple of seconds he just stood there, just processing what had happened. You sounded so determined, so ready to leave and not coming back it was unsettling. It was a future he didn’t look forward to.

He caught a whiff of your scent, laced with that perfume the students gifted you on your birthday. You were going out alone, dressed out like that, and possibly coming home smelling like a stranger???

Oh, hell no.