#i’ll just get rid of the glasses? maybe?

[i-am-a-fan]

character design is cool up until i get to color choices. then its like. oops!! you put red here!! this now looks like that one character ™ and you failed!! congrats!!! but it’s the one color you were going to use as a base :(

[agents-are-dicks]

Absolutely love my mother being upset with me for being upset with my cousin for yet again thinking she’s the most important thing in the universe and my mother telling me she wishes I’d just find some other way to die already!

[affableramen]

Bad spirits

𝜗𝜚 Kazuha, Wriothesley, Tartaglia, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Ayato, Capitano, Dottore, Alhaitham, Baizhu

𝜗𝜚 Angst+comfort; mentions of injury; Capitano & Baizhu slightly yandere-ish

Divider by @anitalenia

Kazuha

When you break his favourite vase that was a gift from Ayato Kamisato—a fine vase of violet colour, with flowers painted all over it—Kazuha becomes shocked first. You did it in the middle of an argument, but the both of you knew it was completely unintentional. When the shattered piece of decor lies still on the floor (in shambles), forgetting all your bickering you go on your knees and help Kazuha clean the floor and get rid of the dangerous sharp edged pieces that could harm either him or you. 

He is still slightly mad with his eyebrows furrowed, but he allows you to help him. Though, it might take a while for Kazuha to cool down. He is usually a reserved man, but the heated argument took its toll on him.

“Are you mad at me?”

“It was a personal favourite.”

“I am so sorry, but you acted like a dick.”

Kazuha did not even rush to deny it.

“I’m definitely not a saint.”

Wriothesley

You break his favourite mug in the middle of the night when you woke up to drink some water. The sleepy you accidentally pulled on the glass a little too much and it hit the mug next to it, dragging it down. Wriothesley sleeps deeply and doesn't hear any noise but upon waking up in the morning you tell him the story as you ought to. To that Wriothesley rubs the bridge of his nose and says: 

“Forget it. At least you didn't hurt yourself.”

And he must be right, you could easily get injured while the mug was falling down. Luckily, you are not hurt and Wriothesley, even being slightly upset over his favourite mug, is genuinely not so attached to material things. 

“I’ll just buy another. Maybe the same one. It’s not living things, they are replaceable.” 

Tartaglia

It was not exactly your fault to have broken Tartaglia’s red mask when you were crashing out. He put in the dinner table and it had to be just a little swing of your hand and the mask flew into the mirror on the wardrobe. Luckily to the both of you, the butler was near and he could deal with the mess immediately. Shocked by the butterfly effect and still devastated over the conflict you had, you bursted into tears. Tartaglia was heated too, and he was not exactly in good spirits, however he rubbed his face and rushed to soothe you. 

“Let them clean the mess, we’ll go upstairs for now. You’re full, yeah?”

You were not hungry at all after the warm meal you had, and even after the bickering Tartaglia still remained the gentleman you fell in love with.

Neuvillette

Breaking his cup into halves was definitely not the wisest idea to grab his attention. It was the look of horror in Neuvillette’s face that made you realise what exactly you just did. You looked at your hand in which there was a shattered glass and a few fresh cuts on your hand, already bleeding. Should you have loosened up your grip, as the shattered cup dropped onto the floor with a loud clinging noise. Neuvillette could have gone furious for you breaking his belonging, especially the one he used to drink his dear water from, but upon seeing you get hurt by your own stupid action, he could not help but rushing to you. Monseiur gently took your hand and opened your palm gently. He looked at the palm and concluded: “Foolish woman. I’m going to get a healer.”

It was just two sentences but you felt such emotion, such care for yourself. “ I didn't mean it”, you say, “I didn't mean it, Neuvillette. I was just… upset and stressed out, and you did make it any easier with your cold attitude.”

“I’m sorry, my love. I will be more attentive next time.” 

“I’m sorry I broke your cup. I guess the both of us are at fault.”

Neuvillette noded, his face twitching with worry and other intense emotion you could not comprehend. “Stay here.”

Pantalone

“That was the last straw. Are you happy now?” Hisses he after you break the intricately-done, antic lamp that was supposed to be a gift to Pantalone from one of his business partners. With your leg you mash the insides of the former desk lamp, driving them out to the corner of your bedroom.

“Can’t you see? She’s flirting with you!”

“It was just a gift, why do you have to see everything as a means to court?”

“Because it is one, look, Pantalone. There is even a letter.”

Hearing that Pantalone slowly approaches you and the broken piece of decor, his look is intrigued but disappointed at the same time. Never he had think that he’d miss something so on the nose. 

“Indeed it is”, he finishes reading the letter. “Darling I didn't know. I’m so sorry.”

“One day you have to face your fangirls and just draw a line, ‘kay?”

“I should have done it long ago, I fear”, he takes your hands, intertwining them with his own and looks you right in the eyes. “Don't need no one other than you.” 

Pantalone pulls you into a tight embrace, staying like that for a couple of long still seconds.

Ayato

Ayato wasn't exactly pleased when you broke his favourite fan that was a piece of decorum in the living room. You did it out of disappointment and boiling up inside you felt upon seeing some other women trying to grab Ayato’s attention. You have never been so possessive before like you are today, and for a good reason. Those girls had no right to peek for long at the man who was obviously (and officially) taken. Your emotions were bottled up because you couldn't make a scene just there, you couldn't fight or threaten those shameless bimbos. 

Ayato was rather tired and simply rolled his eyes on top of his head and slumped into his chair. 

“Are you done?”

“Yes I am.”

“Wonderful. I’ll ask Thoma to clean this up. Go to bed.”

He was not exactly kind, and his what usually was a request, seemed like a merciless order to you. 

Capitano

“Enough, woman, you’re just going to embarrass yourself furthermore”, Capitano says as he once again catches a dish thrown at him by your hand. “I said—enough.”

You lower your hand, gently put the remaining non shattered dish on the table and leave the dining hall. Capitano spends a couple of seconds thinking if he should invade your privacy and impact you somehow, or leave the things as they are. Torn between two evils, he finally makes his way after you and catches your arm, gently though.

“We shall discuss all our misunderstandings… in private”, he looks down, as if he is too ashamed to stare into your eyes, though you don't even see his face behind the mask. 

“In the civil manner”, he clears his throat, “as a proper couple.”

The tension between you two dies out for a moment and the Captain releases your hand, his strong posture faltering as a sign that he is consumed by very strong emotions right now. 

“Why not”, you wipe a tear from your eye. “I might humour you this once.”

Capitano offers you his hand and you accept it. As he leads you to the bedroom, he gives you quick glares here and there. 

Dottore

Dottore stares at his broken vial, his face contorted into a grimace as he stares you up and down. 

“I cannot believe you’d do that. Looks like I underestimated you”, he throws the wasted vial into the bin and barks at you. “Leave. I don't want to see your face for the rest of the day. As if you don’t know how much I worked on this shit.”

That’s right. It was just one vial, but for him it was still a piece of effort. Seeing Dottore pushing his anger back as he needs to focus on his job you have a sudden change of heart. You stop behind him, watching as he works.

“Don’t breathe onto my neck, now go away”, he remains the same grumpy old man but you understand it that deep inside his heart he just doesn't want to admit how exhausted and frustrated he is. 

“I will aid you.”

“I have clones enough to aid me”, he snorts.

“Dottore.”

You do not take any objections instead put your gloves on and start assisting him.

“Don't be stubborn”, he says.

“No, you don’t be.”

After a while of grunting in frustration and constantly rejecting your attention Dottore finally gives up and lets you help finish the task in the lab together. 

Alhaitham

In the light of you two arguing Alhaitham certainly expected you to pull a rash action like throwing his book into the river. He sighed and pulls his hair back, trying to cool down. Was it necessary for you to throw his book away? After all—what has the poor book even done?

“You never listen to me!” You cry out. “You only follow the principles of your book, that’s it. Have you ever thought out of the box?!”

“This argument is huge nonsense. I don’t even know why I spend my time on it in the first place.”

“Really? Maybe next thing you’re gonna say is that you don’t even know why you’re staying with me?!”

At that, Alhaitham finally displays a visible sign of irritation on his face. He is a calm man usually, but you have been pressuring him for a while now.

“What do you want me to do?!”

“Listen to my damn opinion! For once!”

You step back to take a breather, and Alhaitham lets out a loud, heavy sigh.

“Good. Tell me your opinion then. I will listen to it, I promise.” His voice has gone softer and he looks at you awaiting for your response. Perhaps you two can still come to a peaceful solution.

Baizhu

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not”, Baizhu turns away. He sighs and groans and overall is trying to cope. His lips are already hurt from how aggressively he licks them. 

“I didn't mean to tear your bracelet during our little fight. I was stressed out.”

Baizhu does not honour you with a single look and walks back to his desk. He takes a seat and continues writing his prescriptions to customers as if nothing happened. His hand works, but you can see the wrinkles forced by anger deep inside him to cripple on his face. He ignores you standing there, looking at him and waiting for any reaction that he would make, but he seems to not even acknowledge your presence.

Finally, he rises and walks to hand the prescription to the customer. 

“Okay”, you say to yourself, grab your things and attempt to go home, but in the last moment Baizhu sighs, his thin body blocking your path.

“Sit on the guest couch and wait for me.”

“So bossy”, you shake your head, perplexed with his smugness and sudden assertiveness that Baizhu perhsps kept inside for a good reason. You were pretty tired yourself so there was no point in disobeying the pharmacist. Baizhu waited until you took the seated position, eyeing you with heavy stare and furrowed eyebrows. Once you stopped there, his face took a softer look and he began working on the last few prescriptions.

[teatreeoilll]

2006

“No - No - Don’t put it in your bag. Gojo - Seriously, stop.”

“Well we need to put it somewhere, don’t we?”

“Alright. Alright - Let me hold it. We just need to think of something smart - ow! Little bastard. If you bite me again I’ll leave you here.” At the edge of the street stands the rubble of the house Gojo destroyed half an hour ago - together with the curse in it. The other houses surrounding you look run-down and uninhibited, blending with the rain clouds on the horizon. “I don’t really mean it,” You whisper.

Gojo leans forward and rubs the head of the tiny gray kitten you’re holding. The kitten hisses back at him. “I don’t think he likes us.”

“What makes you think he’s a he - ow! Maybe it’s a she,” You lift the kitten up, but it only digs its tiny claws further into your hand. “Alright, I won’t check -” You bring it closer to your chest, rubbing it on the head to calm it down, and look back up at Gojo, “But we need to figure out what to do with it.”

“Shoko can take care of its leg.” Gojo points to a nasty wound on the kitten, “And then we’ll just put it in your room.”

“My room? Why not your room?”

“Aw, come on. It’s just for a little while - look, it’s already purring. I bet it thinks you’re his mom.”

“Yaga will kill us.”

Gojo’s lips curl up in a familiar smirk, “Only if he finds out.”

“Fine. But you’re buying the cat food.”

-

“Gojo -” You whisper into the dark hallway, “Gojo - Wake up!”

A few seconds go by and the door creaks open. Gojo’s still halfway into putting on his t-shirt, “What is it?” You stare a moment too long at his abs, “If that’s what you came for I’ll take it off -”

“Don’t be dumb, you oversized noodle. Something’s wrong with the kitten.”

Inside your room, Shoko and Geto are kneeling on the floor over the kitten. All your hear are quiet retching sounds and worried whispers.

“He keeps coughing up like that. Do you think he’s sick?” You ask as you and Gojo kneel with the others, looking at the little kitten shaking its head, “Maybe we need to take him to a vet.”

The kitten wobbles a bit when it moves towards Gojo. “Come here little one,” Gojo whispers as if no one can hear him, “What’s wrong with you? Huh?” He runs a finger between the kitten’s ears. It climbs onto his knees, then wretches again, unleashing a surprisingly big and slimy hairball on Gojo’s lap.

“Oh - God - That’s -” Gojo takes the kitten off his knees. He swears it’s smirking at him. The room is silent for a moment before you let out a snort, and everyone but Gojo howls with laughter. “Quit laughing! D’you have a wet wipe or something?”

“I -” You huff out laughing, wiping the tears pooling in your eyes, “I thought it was sick -”

Geto’s cheeks are bright red and he’s folded almost in half as he sucks sharp breaths through bouts of laughter, “Good thing you called Satoru, poor thing just needed something to look at to get him to vomit -”

“Seriously! Stop laughing and get me towel or something -”

In the doorway, Masamichi Yaga clears his throat.

-

“I’m not saying get rid of it.” The little kitten strolls on papers on Yaga’s desk. Rain hammers on the window glass. “Just put it back where it came from.”

“How can we put it back where it came from?” You retort, “It’s tiny! It’ll freeze, or it’ll starve or -”

The kitten looks up, its green eyes pointed straight at Yaga’s stern expression. Yaga sighs.

“Come on, Yaga -” Gojo bats his white eyelashes as if he’s the one about to get kicked out in the rain. Yaga sighs again.

“You can’t keep it in your room anymore,” Yaga says as he takes the kitten from the desk and places it on his lap, “But we’ll figure something out. Now get to bed, all of you.”

-

2017

“Mochi!” Gojo ducks down to pet the cat as he exits the building. It hisses back at him. “You’re getting old now, you little monster. You better start making amends soon.”

“Earl still doesn’t like you, huh?” You chuckle, coming out from the building after him.

“I don’t know how he likes you after you named him Earl.” Gojo looks down at the cat, who left him to rub on your feet. “Bootlicker,” he mutters under his breath.

“Don’t be jealous, Satoru,” Shoko’s smoking a cigarette by the entrance, “Winston can sense it.”

“Don’t even let me get started about naming a cat after a pack of cigarettes -”

“Oh and Mochi’s better?” You chuckle, petting Earl on the head, “Even though nothing beats Yaga who just calls him “Cat” or Suguru’s ‘Bruce Lee’ -”

Suguru. There’s a silence.

Earl meows. “Aw - Earl, you want a treat?” You reach into your pocket, “Lucky for you I came prepared.”

Gojo chuckles, “If I meow, will you -”

“Definitely not, Satoru.”

“Are you sure?” Gojo drawls, leaning forward for his face to be an inch from yours, “Because I’ll meow if I have to.”

You roll your eyes and press a chaste kiss on his lips, “Please don’t meow.”

[ajortga]

inspiration

pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader

word count: 1.9k+

summary: you are wednesday's inspiration to end her writer's block.

warnings: mentions of blood, knives, stabbing, (but only briefly, story is full of fluff)

-

“Hey baby,” you say softly, closing your dorm door gently before you approach your girlfriend, busy with her novels on her typewriter. “Writer’s block today?”

Her eyebrows scrunch together, like if staring down her typewriter would magically have the words come to her.“I told you not to call me that mi corazon. And yes, I will admit I am quite struggling with my second book. It’s hard to incorporate feelings that aren’t just vicious. No ideas.” Wednesday says firmly, clicking on the keys before turning to you, her deep brown eyes looking in yours. 

You laugh, sitting next to her and placing a hand on hers, “Oh, but you can call me that?” You roll your eyes, taking out her left braid and redoing it for her. 

“It’s different.”

“How so?”

“Don’t question me or else I won’t call you that again, puppy.”

She looks down at your figure, tongue sticking out slightly as you tangle the three parts of her hair to intertwine. “Did you give Thing a snood?”

It’s a little quiet, faint pop music from Enid and Yoko’s room coming from outside. You smell like you just came from a garden, the black-haired girl taking the hint that you smell earthy, musky, and slightly sweet from your natural undertones.

You tie the ends as you nod, “It’s getting a little cold, don’t want him to feel left out, do we? Why? Did he tell you?”

Her eyes soften, of course no one could see when they did except you, but she glances to the glass that leads to outside. “Hinted, he wore that thing for a week already without taking it off.”

You grab the rubber band and tighten the braids, kissing her hair softly. “He loves it that much, huh?”

“Love is a strong word,” Wednesday states, not mentioning that the creature was only wearing it because he loved you as close as he loved her. “But it’s a close competition.”

“Mmmm,” you nod, looking at her as you smile. “Oh, I came in here to tell you that I gotta help babysit my nieces and nephews in an hour and won’t be back till night.”

Oh. At least she would have alone time for her new novel, Wednesday thought.

Right? 

A new novel that she has completely blacked out on, Viper de la Muerte yet to have another plot hole to discover. Now that she thought about it, maybe she should map out the feelings the girl has. What makes her angry, upset, triggered… Happy. Wednesday shivers at the thought. But what’s a story with just angst and blood? No one would want to read that if it was published. She would think about that later.

“I see,” she says, taking note of the way you’re playing with her fingers. It’s something you do when you’re nervous or hoping for a response. A response that Wednesday has no clue what you want her to speak. 

Maybe you were telling her to get some alone time, or so she doesn’t worry the whole day and search the woods high and low for you. She did do that once. When you and Enid went out for a candy run. To say the least, she was pissed.

‘Worriedly freaked out’ Mrs. Weems would say.

“Well,” Wednesday clears her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward silence, “If you need me I’ll be here.”

Oh…

If any human being were to look at you, they would see no change in your expression.

Wednesday is not a human being. She’s studied you in and out. Slight raise of your eyebrows indicated you were interested, a scrunch of the nose meant you were trying to be playful. But there were some things that she could just feel, like when there's no spark in your eyes. You looked a little disappointed.

“Unless,” the girl says quickly, “You want me to come with you?”

Your eyes widen, and the spark comes back again, she has to let out a sigh of relief. “Could you? You would do that?”

“Of course I will bab-” She coughs again, “Mi corazon. You should know that by now.”

She would do anything for you. Even if it meant having little kids tug at her hair.

You smile.

-

“I’m beginning to regret this,” the black hair girl says, slightly irritated as you bounce baby James up and down in your arms. Baby James, who is completely peaceful and giggling, while baby Mabel tugs on Wednesday’s braids, babbling and giggling. 

She gives her a hard tug on the ends, making Wednesday flare up for a moment.

“Hey, hey.” You say, quickly to your girlfriend’s side as you carry Mabel with one arm. “We don't tug on people’s hair, okay? Not me, not your brother, not my girlfriend, definitely not my girlfriend! Don’t do that.”

Mabel throws her arms up in the air and rips four strands off your hair.

“No!” You firmly say. 

“See, I’m telling you,” your girlfriend gives Mabel a cold glare, which makes Mabel giggle and kick. “I tell her to stop, she doesn’t.”

She’s got a point, but you don’t give up that easily, “We just have to be patient,” the baby brunette lifts her small chubby hands to your hair before you look at her and firmly say, “No.” She immediately stops and babbles, “Won't ...Tchhh..Touch..” 

Your eyes crinkle into a smile. “See! She did it!” You yippee.

Well, I guess these small creatures are trainable after all, Wednesday thinks.

Before you can cradle Mabel and play with her hair, two voices shout in the distance, coming down the stairs, “Auntie Y/N!” Another boy and girl stomp in, running with toys in their hands that are currently in the air.

Wednesday makes a small scowl, looking at the tiny kids stampeding up to you with giggles of joy.

“Hi guys!” You smile, being tackled to the carpet as two boys cling onto your legs and the girls jump and down around you.

They look at Wednesday, which she can almost feel their curiosity, innocent eyes searching her. “Who is she? Pretty braids.” One of the girls, Jess, asks as she looks at the black haired girl. 

She would’ve expected you to say that she was your friend, especially in front of all these toddlers, but instead, you pick Jess up and swing her in the air. “That’s Wednesday, my girlfriend.”

“Awww,” the two girls say as they babble and wave to Wednesday. “Can we touch your hair?”

You look at Mabel as she looks up at you, “Won’t tug.”

“Okay baby,” You say, kissing the top of Mabel’s head. “Don’t hurt her. I love her too much for her to go bald.”

It almost makes Wednesday’s cold heart warm up. A small twitch of her mouth smiles. A smile that only Uncle Fester would bring before she knew you. A smile that she would only feel when she solved another mystery and connected the dots. 

But you could make her heart feel like goo anytime. To say the least, seeing you all soft around kids made her feel something. Inspiration.

As you and Wednesday came home from the night, her braided hair having slight ends sticking out from all the kids admiring and playing with it, she immediately walked to her typewriter.

2 months of writer's block, 2 months of having no clue what to add to enlighten Viper’s personality. But here she was, like she had new fingers. It felt like they just knew what they needed to say as they clicked and clacked against the typewriter. Magic that comes from the start of her fingertips. You were her inspiration.

————————————— CHAPTER IV ——————————————

One thing that Viper would never like to admit, to even herself, is that she feels more than these emotions that she thought didn’t exist. She thought she was emotionless, not feeling an ounce of joy. Even the word joy made her want to tear a knife through her ragged heart. For once in her life, she felt an emotion that occurs once in a blue moon. An emotion that started to occur so many times before and after a blue moon.

Perhaps it was weird to her at first. Weird to be able to feel something deep in her soul. But she felt her ragged heart feel warm. Soft and pumping with blood. Soft enough to feel protective of what mattered most to Viper. At first, she felt eager and overly protective of her sword that was given to her as a gift. But now, she feels as though she was given a gift that was sent from above. Hell, she thought it didn’t exist till she came.

Viper de la Muerta felt soft, fond, and joyous for someone she never knew for long. She only started to know her recently, yet her family never made her feel soft. Sure, she was protective over them, but never enough to have the fondness dissipate in the matter of seconds. This girl was different, everything opposite from de la Muerta. She was happy, unafraid to show Viper her worst side, unafraid to lean a little closer to Viper when she herself was crying, she was the sun to Viper’s moon. 

Oh, and there came the toddlers. Viper had never seen this side of this girl before. She was gentle and sweet at all the same time, like she would kill to protect these little ones, or to be able to make them happy. The look in the girl’s eyes made Viper wonder if she looked at her with the same feelings.

Viper had something to look up to. Someone. And she knew that this girl was the one. As soon as she saw it with her own eyes, the person who made her feel productive all these past weeks jumped in front of her to save her life before it could be too late. She had taken a knife through her chest before it could go through Viper’s heart. As soon as the girl dropped to her knees in a flurry and saw her eyes, confused and scared, Viper was crying. For the first time in 12 years, she was crying. 

She felt all the emotions she never felt before from the span of now, and when she first met the girl. She felt proud whenever she brought something up and saw the girl light up into a smile. Upset, when she had made her cry. Worried, when she nervously scratched the chair she was sitting on, praying to Lord that they wouldn’t take her away from Viper. Anger, as she hunted the person who held the knife and hurt you. She used the same knife as she brought down the blade the 23rd time to his bloodied body. One for every day she had been unconscious. Guilt, Viper felt guilty every day you had laid on the hospital bed, eyes shut with an oxygen tank over your nose, so guilty that she wished that you didn’t come in time to save her so she could save you the trouble from being hurt. She’d survive a knife that was close to her heart. If she didn’t, she’d still wish that something would’ve happened differently so you didn’t take the blade. She felt guilty that she felt guilty about growing so attached to someone and not being able to let them out of her sight.

But she felt something else. She felt love for her, something that she couldn’t figure out before she thought it was too late. She had kept her close, reading her favorite books next to the unconscious girl in the hospital. She had talked to her like she was awake and breathing, she had held her every night till she fell asleep and got better. Viper had made sure she was safe.

Her name was Y/N.

[anisangeldust]

Worship this love 𝜗𝜚⋆

Summary: Coriolanus can’t seem to stop winning, of course he has to make sure you’ll never leave..

Part: ← iv

Warnings: misogyny, cheating, death (poison), coriolanus’ fucked up mind, descriptions of a dead body, mentions of blood, smut (p in v), baby trapping, dubcon, semi forced pregnancy? Minor threats.

A/N: DDDNE, please don't read if any of the warnings make you uncomfortable. Your internet consumption is not my responsibility. happy new year!! Sorry this took me so long. This series gave me terrible writers block for some reason ENJOY!!

“I should that bitch an Avox, maybe then she’ll learn to behave” Coriolanus chuckled as you sat on his lap, one hand on your waist and the other cradling a glass of neat whisky.

That warned him a playful smack to his chest “Coryo!” You scolded. Classic. Despite how much Livia did to anger, hurt, and even injure you, you never wished ill upon her. It was one of the many reasons, Coriolanus thought, that she’d never be on your level. She would never be as genuinely pure.

“Dove, I’m going to get rid of her” one of his hands toyed with the ruffles of your uniform “you know that, and it’s not your fault.” His voice cooed sweetly.

A gentle sigh left your chest “I know.. I just” you look into his piercing gaze, the adoration bubbling in his crystalline pupils was almost tangible as he watched you speak. “I don’t know.. I just hate to waste a life like that-“

“Her existence is a waste of life.” Coriolanus cut in sharply, setting down his drink and holding your face in both hands “my sweet, baby dove. It’s my choice that Livias life is going to end. Don’t feel guilty. She’s trying to hurt you. And that’s not okay.” He murmurs and pecks your lips, a gesture you happily reciprocate.

“Okay..” you nod and smirk gently. Climbing off his lap to resume cleaning.

“Good girl” the president praises and pats your bottom. Ever since you two first started sleeping together, you’d made sure to put on a little show of wiggling your hips with every swipe of a duster, bend down unnecessarily, or accidentally forget to wear a bra so your perky nipples were visible through the uniform fabric. All of which earned you a spanking or rough fuck.

You both loved every second of both.

——

“President snow. Your berries and root.” A hired, non avox worker set them down in his office under strict orders. Coriolanus could almost smell the enticing aroma from here, yet they seemed to simultaneously irritate his nose..

The president gave a curt nod “thank you” he stated before waving his hand to order the worker away.

An avox came in a small bit later, their hands gloved with a cage gripped tight between their fingers.

The avox set the cage down and uncovered it, revealing a plump and skittering rat, the perfect test subject for the level of poison in the berries.

Coriolanus stood up and leaned against his desk, nodding to gesture for the avox to begin. Taking a single berry, the worker sets it in the cage of the rat, letting the rodent sniff around for it.

It doesn’t take long for the animal to eat the poisoned nightshade. And it took even less time for the creature to start flailing and then stop breathing, laying dead in the confines of the cage.

A smile played at the edges of Coriolanus’ mouth “good.. very good” he nods and grabs a sticky note, writing down instructions to the chefs on making the berries into a pastry, and the hemlock into tea.

“Give this to the chefs. Let it fall into the wrong hands and I’ll have your head” The young president hands the basket and the note to the avox. “And get rid of the rat” he scoffs.

——

Coriolanus observed the head chef very carefully as he reduced the berries into a jam and steeped the hemlock root and stems into Livias daily chamomile tea.

The poisonous jam was then pipped onto some pre-made croissants, so inconspicuous, ready for consumption.

Just as Coriolanus moved to leave, you come up behind him “is that what you’re doing with the nightlock?” You giggle and kiss his shoulder.

“Nightlock?” He looks down at you and takes your chin with two fingers.

You nod “yeah. Deadly nightshade? Hemlock? Nightlock. It felt appropriate” you giggle.

Coriolanus shakes his head and smiles “you’re too cute” he chuckles and pecks your lips, murmuring against the affectionate exchange— “I don’t want you to see Livia die. Stay in my office” he coos.

You nod obediently and nuzzle his cheek “m’kay”

“Good girl” he murmurs and moves his hand to playfully squeeze your rear. Your doe eyes gaze making his trousers feel a touch too tight.

——

The morning air of the Capitol felt a little too thick, whether it was the wight of his own decisions, or the constant pressure of Livias presence, something or someone was always crowding Coriolanus. Though he knew subconsciously that the minute her pulse stopped, the smoke would part.

You were his only respirator, the constant air tank in the fog. As much as he tried to convince himself that love was pointless to him, he would be reminded that he loved you. And oh he loved you. Your fluffy hair and happy attitude was the sunshine cutting through his dark days.

That’s what kept him going as he climbed into bed that night, mentally preparing to have to deal with the press, how he was broken over Livias death, and how he was trying his best to help her sudden illness, but in the end it won.

He was torn from his thoughts by the devil herself voice “Coriolanus?” Her body was next to his before he could respond.

“What?” He sighed and looked over at her, his eyes dark and cold, the opposite of his gaze when he looked at you, even she knew that.

“C’mon! Don’t be like that. Our wedding is soon—“ that almost made Coriolanus puke in his mouth “—and we are going to be expected to have an heir. So we could at least practice?” She giggles. Coriolanus had to hide his grossed out scowl “mhm. How about tomorrow night? I’ll be all yours okay?” He looked over his shoulder and Livia nods “Okay!” She giggles and turns over “oh, and once we’re married I want to discuss some staff with you”

By “some staff” he knew she meant you, but he chose not to comment on it, he knew she wouldn’t live to see their wedding. Whether it was the berries the next morning or blunt force was unknown, but she wouldn’t make it.

——

You sat in Coriolanus’ office, snug in his chair with a book and the promise that he’d be back soon. “I don’t want you to see it” he murmurs and kisses your head “it’ll be over quickly, then I’ll be all yours” he tries to soothe the guilty feeling he can tell is brewing in your gut.

“Okay.. I love you” you murmur and he chuckles “I love you too, little dove.” And with that, he leaves and locks the door.

At the dining table, Livia was sitting and waiting for tea and breakfast. Coriolanus sat down and started to sip his coffee, nothing out of the ordinary for them.

The avoxes set down breakfast, pouring Livias tea, and then yours. Making sure to switch the teapots.

“Mmm. I haven’t had pastries in a while” she giggles and takes a bite “what’s in here? Jam? It’s very good” she smiles and takes another bite.

Coriolanus lets out a genuine smile to Livia for the first time ever, though it’s for different reasons than she might think. “It’s a new berry the gardener planted. I figured you’d like it.” He smirks.

She washes the pastry down with the tea “mm, it was delicious” she coughs “the tea is quite bitter though. I guess it was a bad batch” she shrugs.

“Probably. Sometimes the leaves get weird” he nods in agreement, though his eyes were trained on her face, he almost felt disgusted for paying so much attention to her, but he couldn’t let her live.

It only took a few moments before she started having a coughing fit, pouring herself more of the bitter (hemlock) tea and drying to ease the soreness, but it only made it worse. “Coryo..?” She wheezed out and gestured to her throat “water..” her voice was scratchy, he could tell her throat was closing.

“Hmm? Oh my. Yes, I’ll be back” he feigns concern and gets up, taking his time to get her water.m he comes back to Livia wheezing and gesturing for him to come quickly. Coriolanus hands her the water, which is quickly guzzled and then spat out as she starts to convulse.

“I can’t.. —it.. Coryo?” She whines and tries to stand up, only to collapse on the floor.

Coriolanus can’t help but giggle as the staff all stand and do nothing, even though he knew they all disliked her; (also they were all threatened into silence) but the amount of apathy was almost satisfying.

He leans down as she started to grip at her neck, her lips turning blue “pity really, you had so much potential.” The president shakes his head and sits back down, continuing to eat his breakfast, showing Livia in her last moments that he never really did care about her anyway.

After a moment, her body laid still, a small pool of blood tricking down from the edge of her mouth. Another minute passed before a daring avox reached out to check her pulse, looked over at the nonchalant president and nodding.

“Dead?” Coriolanus asks a different worker, who promptly checks herself and confirms.

“Dead.”

The instant euphoria the President felt was almost orgasmic. She was dead. He never had to deal with Livia ever again.. nothing was between you two now..

Daring to look ate her corpse, Coriolanus was met with glazed over eyes and blood trailing from her mouth and nose. She was dead, and he had never been happier.

——

The doors of his office opened quickly, Coriolanus raced in and scooped you up, capturing your face in a searing kiss. “Dove..” he murmurs and starts to walk, out of the office and up stairs, kicking open their his room door.

He sets you down on his beautifully plush bed and starts to tear off your clothes. Your giggles filling the room “so I’m assuming she’s gone?” You murmur and he nods “you’re mine..”

He had crazy eyes, the kind that made you want to simultaneously run away and open your legs, of course you chose the latter. Coriolanus didn’t even bother taking off your underwear, he just ripped a hole right over the wet skin of your cunny.

“Oh fuck babygirl..” he sinks a finger in your tight pussy and growls “I’m gonna breed you..” his voice is low and dark. His hands move off you momentarily so he can undo his pants, allowing both his pants and boxers to fall so his semi-hard length can hang out.

Your eyes roll back “please do daddy” you nod and spread your legs further, allowing him better access to your slick folds.

Today wasn’t a day for foreplay, maybe another, perhaps a day when his ex fiancée wasn’t laying dead in the dining room would be better? No matter, he needed you. And Coriolanus was a taker, so took you he did.

His hard length slid into your juicy pussy, becoming enveloped in your tight heat. The feeling causing both you and the president to moan out loud. “Oh.. mmm— daddy! Yes!” You cry out as he starts to piston his cock into you, the length bullying its way into your cunt.

“Fuck— you’re— always so— tight… no matter how much I fuck you..” he growls and keeps moving, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he holds your legs against your chest. “Gonna breed this— greedy hole..” he croaks and moves a hand to rub your swollen clit.

You let out a gasp and squeal before nodding “please—! Let me come! Breed me!” You beg breathlessly

“Yeah? You’d— fuck— you’d like that huh? Being my bitch? Having me stuff you full of my children?” He grunts before thrusting one more time and spilling his cum into your womb.

His fingers work over your nub until you cum, your pussy clenching Coriolanus’ cock, the import of his release visable in your abdomen “yesyesyesyesyes!” You scream out before gasping for breath, the force of your orgasm almost too much.

The President lays down and pulls you flush against him, breathing in your scent while his hand moves against your belly “gonna pump you full, soon this belly will be plump with my heir”. He breathes the promise,

you look at him with both want and trepidation “what about the press? What will they think?” You murmur and he lets out a hearty chuckle.

“You know what Dove? I don’t give a single fuck. I want you barefoot and fucking pregnant with my seed. You aren’t leaving me. And I’ll never let you go.” While it seemed sweet, you could taste the underlying threat in his words, you try to leave and you suffer Livias same fate.

“I won’t leave, I promise” you murmur and kiss him.

He beams. “Good girl. Now. Let’s get you into something more fitting for a future First Lady.”

Taglist!

@daenerysqueenofhearts @caramelandvenus @yoursrosie @wearemadeofstardust0 @kay-lla @mrsriddlenott @sleekervae @ianales @qoopeeya @arzua10 @matcha-muses @jitsuki12 @nojeicintjzonfhw @poppyflower-22 @lustforrush @jefferson-in-the-tardis @aurabambi @royal-sunflower @rovckwells @rubys-rere @iydImsydxoxo @nyxxoxo @lucyisdoingfine @paradisepoisons @miserableblood @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @sqct @tmblrsexyw0man

[princessbrunette]

Baby daddy rafe being hit on everyone at the country club and reader not being able to do anything cuz they’re not together<//33

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

you don’t even know why you come to this stupid place anymore.

you supposed it was to keep up appearances. you didn’t wanna be that girl that turned twenty, got pregnant and then disappeared off the radar. why should you have to live in shame of being a young parent if rafe cameron didn’t? you refused, hence why you were taking a quiet afternoon off, sitting with a glass of wine at the country club enjoying the sunshine before you’d have to return to motherhood.

you didn’t expect him to be there at the same time you were. you try it to be cool about it, because you knew you were not with him — but seeing him surrounded by a group of girls batting their lashes and twirling their hair up at him made you feel… icky. you were protective, you supposed. sure, you weren’t together but that was the father of your child. the wine gave you that little confidence boost, so you decide to go and intervene, make something up.

flattening out your sundress you totter over, briefly losing that confidence for a moment as you stand to the side, waiting for your turn to be noticed like the rest of them. when he does, he cuts the flirtatious laughter short to politely shoo them away, wandering over to you.

“hi.” you state bashfully, embarrassed that you have to take up any of his time as if he didn’t put a whole baby in your stomach.

“hey, uh… how’s my girl?” he asks, and for a brief hopeful moment you think he’s talking about you. your chest warms anyway.

“she’s good. sarah is babysitting right now.” you explain softly, finding it hard to hold the eye contact. your eyes drift over to the girls he was speaking to instead, noticing their jealous glares. rafe hums, bringing his beer bottle to his lips and taking a sip.

“‘long as she’s not letting my baby around those pogues.” he comments, displeased and your heart sinks a little. you hate when he’s disappointed. maybe your hormones were still all out of whack. “was there… something you needed from me?”

you blink up at him dumbly, conjuring up an excuse. “w— uh… i was wondering… when you wanted to see her?” you fiddle with your hands, body heating up at how ill prepared you were for this conversation. he blinks, shifting on his feet.

“do i not…come and see her every weekend? i dont…” he frowns, genuinely confused. your eyes widen as you nod.

“yeah, no — of course i was just… wondering if you wanted to see her during the week too or anything? if you maybe wanted to…come over just for a little while?” you shrug, trying to make it as casual as possible. he stares at you for a moment like he’s trying to read you before looking around.

“you— you know i’m a very busy man now and —” he starts but you cut him off, already too hurt to let him continue.

“yeah! no it’s okay i totally get it rafe. i don’t wanna impede, you’re already doing a lot and i don’t wanna ask too m—” you go to ramble politely, humiliated at the speed in which the fat tears spring to your eyes.

“hey— let me finish, alright?” he places two hands on your shoulders and you immediately shut up, blinking up at him tearfully. “what i was going to say, okay — is — is that i’m a busy man now, but… you say the word and… i’ll drop everything, yeah? whats the problem have — have you been struggling with… with the baby or, what?” he looks concerned. maybe it was fatherhood that was changing him but you could tell he genuinely gave a shit. no he wasn’t fully rid of his boyish troublesome ways but there had definitely been a shift and that was enough to relieve you. he watches the stress physically melt from your body, brow relaxing as you sigh.

“not a…problem, rafe really it’s okay i just… it can be a little lonely… and i suppose i just want her to see her parents interacting, show her that we’re okay with eachother you know? give her some healthy ideals.” you explain, but really he stopped listening after the word lonely.

“i—i didn’t know you were lonely like that, you know i… i wouldn’t let that happen… okay? i’ll come over. we’ll hang out… yeah?” one hand that was resting on your shoulder comes up to cup your cheek in emphasis and you so badly want to nuzzle into it, let him take the weight of your head. instead you just stare up with doe eyes.

“yeah.” it comes out as a whisper and he licks his lips, nodding in approval.

“alright then.”

you glance over to the glaring girls and your gaze darts downwards. “uh, i think i’m upsetting your girlfriends.” you chuckle awkwardly, going to step back. he glances over his shoulder, letting go over you before shrugging a shoulder carelessly.

“more like… god damn fan girls. those bit— uh, women won’t leave me alone.” he corrects himself, making a clear effort. “gonna go and find topper now, okay? you gonna be fine?” he takes a step back and you want him to stay but you nod anyway.

“see you, rafe.”

you have a warm feeling in your stomach when you leave the country club. you weren’t together, and only a few weeks ago you were telling people how glad you were that this was the case. but now things were different. his favouritism should have been clear due to the fact he’d knocked you up, and maybe it was pity, if that was something rafe was even capable of — but you didn’t care. rafe liked you the most.

🧸✧˖°❅🍥

[covenofagatha]

But you're my stepmom! (Part 2)

Agatha takes you out to dinner.

Word count: 2500

Warnings: none (I think)

A/N: this ended up being way longer than I was planning, so hope you all enjoy. Happy Agatha night to all who celebrate!

Taglist: @stayevildarling @i-just-cannot @hazey-g @buttercandy16 @320viada

“You’re home early,” your mom says when you walk through the front door. You check your watch and shrug. 4:15. Granted, if you had come from school, you wouldn’t be back right now. 

After your encounter with Agatha, you had quickly scooped up the broken glass, tracked down Wanda, and then driven her back to school to drop her off. She had asked if you were coming, but you were buzzing with the thought of dinner with your step-mother that night so you knew there was no way you could’ve focused. And there was no point going to seventh period anyway. It was history – your least favorite subject. 

So Wanda went back to class and you went shopping. You didn’t know where Agatha and you were going for dinner, didn’t know the dress code, but you knew how the older woman dressed and you weren’t going to look homeless next to her. 

At the mall, you were able to find a tight black dress that accentuates your curves nicely. The neckline was bordering on inappropriate and the hem came down to your mid-thigh, but it was cheap and it made you look good. You had hidden the bag inside your backpack to avoid your mom asking questions. 

“I have some homework to do and then Wanda and I are getting dinner,” you tell her. Your mom is a bit touchy with the subject of your father and Agatha, so you know better than to tell the truth. 

“Sounds good, hon,” she says, turning back to her computer. “Did you have a good day?” 

You hum noncommittally and then go upstairs. The first thing you do is take a shower to wash the chlorine from the swim you and Wanda took earlier and then you curl your hair. You’re not sure why you’re putting so much effort in to look nice for dinner with Agatha. You tell yourself that it’s just because she always looks like she’s just stepped off the cover of Vanity Fair and you don’t want to appear underdressed compared to her, but a small part of you knows you want to look good for her. You shake your head to get rid of the thought. 

You apply some light makeup on your face and then slip into the dress you had bought. You dig through your closet and find some short heels that pair nicely. Fuck, you hope Agatha is taking you someplace fancy and not just a chain restaurant. 

Your phone buzzes and you look at it. It’s a text from an unknown number: I’ll be there in 20. 

Who is this? You type back, figuring it’s Agatha but just wanting to make sure. You find it amusing that you haven’t saved her number. You get an eye roll emoji in response and you smile. 

20 minutes to spare. You hate to admit it, but you spend most of that time pacing back and forth in your room, wringing your hands nervously. You’re not sure why nerves are twisting in your stomach. Maybe it’s just because you’ve never spent any one-on-one time with your step-mother before. Maybe it’s the way she was looking at you when she was cleaning up your leg earlier, or the way she squeezed your thighs when you were sitting on the counter. 

No, definitely not the latter. 

You finally give up on trying to calm down. You throw a hoodie over your dress so your mom doesn’t see it and walk downstairs. She hardly glances at you from her spot at the kitchen table. 

“What time will you be back?” she asks. 

“Maybe by 8?” you guess. Once again, you have no idea what you’re getting into with Agatha. 

“Where are you guys going?” 

Can’t answer that either. “When she picks me up, we’re going to figure that out.” 

“Well, have fun and don’t stay out too late.” 

“I won’t,” you promise, walking over to give her a kiss on the cheek. She’s been looking older every day. The divorce was really hard on her so she’s been burying herself in work for the past two years and it’s finally catching up. “Make sure you eat something.” You get a text. I’m out front, from a still unknown number. You smirk to yourself. “I’ll see you later, mom.” She pats your arm and you walk outside. 

A black range rover is parked to the right of your house, out of sight from the windows. You open the passenger seat and get inside, tearing off your hoodie. Thank god you dressed up. She’s wearing a dark burgundy suit that dips low, showing some cleavage. Her long dark hair flows down her back and her gold earrings glint in the sunlight. She looks hot. 

And based on how she’s looking at you, she appreciates your outfit as well. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, breaking the silence. 

“You’ll see,” she says mysteriously, shifting the car into drive. The ride to wherever you’re going is filled with awkward silence. You don’t know if you’re supposed to say something first, but she was the one who dragged you along. 

You purse your lips as the minutes pass. You sneak a glance at Agatha and she looks perfectly content. “So, where’s my dad tonight?” you finally ask, not being able to take it anymore. 

She smirks knowingly. “A work dinner. You know how things are around this time of the year.” Suddenly, you get angry. You don’t know. You haven’t lived under the same roof as him in two years. 

“Oh, sure,” you say, voice caustic. “Back when my parents were still married, he was busy all the time. Glad to hear it’s more of a seasonal thing now.”

She shoots you a look, face soft. “Honey–”

“You know he cheated on my mom, right? What makes you think he won’t do the same to you? Maybe there isn’t a work dinner at all,” you whisper conspiratorially, feeling horrible the moment it comes out of your mouth. The divorce has filled you with a rage that is hard to control and it slips out at the worst possible times. And now you’ve undoubtedly made the rest of the night even more uncomfortable than it already was going to be. “Fuck, Agatha, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” 

She doesn’t even seem phased, just reaches over and pats your leg. “I know how tough this must be for you.” 

You can’t help but roll your eyes. That’s all you’ve heard for the past two years. But you do still feel bad for your uncalled outburst. “That doesn’t make it okay. Plus he’d be a fool to cheat on you,” you mutter under your breath, blushing slightly when she smirks. 

“How does this sound: tonight, I’m not your father’s new wife. I’m just a woman who wants to get to know you a little better. We can eat, talk, have fun. It doesn’t have to be a step-mother-step-daughter bonding thing if you don’t want it to be.” 

“That would be nice,” you begrudgingly admit. She winks and turns into the parking lot of the new Italian steakhouse that has just opened up nearby your house. “Agatha, this is–”

“My treat,” she cuts you off. “Let’s go, sweetheart.” You trail behind her into the restaurant, gaping at how nice it looks. “Hi, reservation for two under Harkness?” It was always wickedly satisfying to you how she didn’t take your dad’s last name. 

The hostess nods and beckons for you both to follow her. She seats you at a table tucked away in the corner and places menus in front of you. 

“Jesus,” you say, flipping through. 

“The first time is always a bit overwhelming,” Agatha says, your cheeks heating up at the double meaning. “How’s your leg doing?”

You had completely forgotten about the cuts. “Oh, it’s feeling better. Thank you, by the way. For cleaning me up and not saying anything–” You remember her rules and you shut your mouth. She chuckles. 

“Of course, sweetheart. Like I said, our little secret.” 

The waitress comes over and takes your drink orders. You order a shirley temple and Agatha gets a glass of red wine. When she comes back with them, you make a point to stare anywhere but Agatha when she licks her lips after she takes a sip. 

“Are you ladies ready to order?” The waitress asks. Agatha recites some dish from memory and you are sure you look like a fish out of water when the waitress turns to you. Agatha stifles a laugh and orders the same thing for you. 

“What did you get me?” You turn back to her once the waitress is out of earshot. 

“The Filet Portabella. Trust me, you’ll love it.” You’ll have to take her word for it. “So, how is senior year going?” 

You launch into the speech that you give every single time someone asks you that, something along the lines of: school is great but it’s stressful with the college search and no, you don’t know where you want to go yet or what you want to major in. It’s one of your least favorite, yet most-often asked questions. 

Agatha hangs onto every word out of your mouth, asking some follow ups. You do have to admit, it is nice to talk to a grown up and actually feel listened to. 

“So, the girl in the pool with you today. Is she your friend, girlfriend..?” Agatha asks once she’s exhausted the school topic. 

“Oh, Wanda? No, we’re just friends. I don’t have a girlfriend. Wait, how did you know I’m gay?” You’re not sure why you’re so flustered. 

“Your dad mentioned it. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t breaking into my house for a little romantic rendezvous.” Her tone is teasing. 

You blush even harder now. You’re 18 years old and you’ve never had anything close to a ‘romantic rendezvous’ with anyone. “Um, no. She’s just my best friend.” And then because you’re having trouble breathing with her staring at you like that, you try to turn the tables. “You never broke into anyone’s pool when you were in high school just to go for a swim?” 

Her eyes glint mischievously. “Never for anything as innocent as just a swim.”

Your mouth runs dry at the image of a younger Agatha (although imagining Agatha right now works too) skinny dipping in a pool with a lover. And then there’s the thought of you and Agatha in her pool. “Oh?” you manage to croak out. 

Agatha leans in closer across the table, voice dropping lower. “My friend and I got caught one time by my neighbor. He was supposed to be out of town another two days but came back early. You should’ve seen his face when he walked out back to find us making out in his pool. My friend was so scared, she ran out and jumped over the fence. And then I had to explain myself all alone.” 

Your breath catches, mouth opening ever so slightly. “She? You – you’re…” Agatha…likes girls?

A wide smirk slowly spreads across her face. “I don’t like labels. But yes, I’ve dated my fair share of women.” 

“Oh. Cool,” you rasp. Thankfully, you’re saved from having to figure out something else to say by the waitress setting two hot plates in front of you. 

“Enjoy!” she says, and leaves you two alone again. 

You pick up your fork and knife, slicing easily into the meat. You hesitantly pop the piece into your mouth and moan instantly. The filet literally melts in your mouth, giving way to possibly the best thing you’ve ever tasted. 

“This is so good,” you mumble while chewing, looking back up at Agatha, who has a strange look on her face. Her eyes are darker than before and you raise an eyebrow. 

She blinks and then takes a bite of her meal. “I’m glad you like it sweetheart,” she says, watching you dig back in. You both eat your food in silence and when the check comes, Agatha doesn’t even look at the bill before slapping down her credit card. 

“Thank you for dinner,” you say. “I had a really nice time.” 

Agatha gives you a real smile. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve really enjoyed tonight as well and I hope we can start spending more time together.” You open your mouth, maybe to protest or maybe to agree, but at that moment, the waitress comes back with her card. 

“You both have a lovely night. And can I just say, you two are a really cute couple.” 

You choke on nothing and you suddenly are doubled over in a coughing fit. Agatha politely thanks the waitress before coming over to you and patting you on the back. Your throat begins to hurt and your vision blurs with tears, but you can’t stop. She presses your drink into your hand and you take a big gulp, wincing at the burn from the carbonation. You take a few more slow sips. 

“You okay?” she asks quietly, now rubbing circles on your back. You cough weakly a few more times before your breathing returns to normal. You stand up, embarrassed. She chuckles as she wipes the tears from your eyes. “You can’t die on me now, sweetheart.” 

You run a hand over your forehead. “I’m okay!” 

“Is the thought of us being a couple really that unappealing?” Agatha murmurs playfully into your ear as she leads you out of the restaurant with a hand around your waist. 

“What? No! I was just startled. You’re my step-mother.” Are you imagining the hint of a frown on her face or is it really there?

She opens the car door for you and then gets in the driver’s seat. “Any plans for the weekend?” 

You had honestly forgotten today was Friday. “Um, I don’t think so. My mom’s working all day tomorrow so I might hang out with Wanda or something. I have homework I should probably do as well.”

She hums. 

“Do you have plans?” you ask. 

She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “Your father and I both have some work we need to do. It’ll be a chill weekend.” 

“That’s good,” you say awkwardly. “I am sorry about what I said earlier. About my dad.” 

She glances at you. “Don’t be. I can only imagine how angry and hurt you are.” 

“I’m not angry with you. You’re actually not that bad.” 

Agatha laughs out loud at that. “Wow, thanks so much, sweetheart.” The pet name, as they have all evening, makes your heart skip a beat. 

“You know what I mean,” you grumble. 

The drive back to your house goes quick and soon enough, she’s parking in the same spot as earlier. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say again. She smiles softly and leans in. You forget how to breathe but she brushes her lips against your cheek. 

“Good night, honey.” 

You get out of the car in a haze, mind spinning. 

[leighsartworks216]

Oh, Hold Me Now

Zayne x AFAB!Reader

Guess whose period just started haha The things I would do to be in Zayne's arms rn istg

Title from "Hold Me Now" by the Thompson Twins

Warnings: menstruation, period fic, lots of domestic fluff, reader has a uterus but no other gender-defining things

Word Count: 1,726

Main Masterlist

Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

With a whimper, you curl in on yourself. The pain in your abdomen rapidly ramps up. You clutch at your belly, willing it to stop, please god stop. It doesn’t listen until tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Then it slowly ebbs away, letting you breathe again.

You reach behind you, but all you find is a cold bed. You whine, annoyed with your emotions and just how upset you are that Zayne isn’t there. Even on his day off, he doesn’t sleep in.

You slowly slide out of bed. Your feet touch your warm slippers, a gift from your husband when you were dating and had just moved in together. They hug your feet in a familiar embrace, cushioning your weight as you force yourself to stand. You shuffle off to the bathroom.

It’s miserable and uncomfortable and you’re cursing your existence by the time you finish on the toilet. On top of that, you’re almost out of product, and what you have definitely isn’t going to last the day. You groan to yourself thinking about Zayne, on his nice day off, having to take care of you. He wouldn’t complain, but it gives you half a mind to change into real pants and go to the store yourself, just so he doesn’t have to deal with this. The other half is just oh so comfortable in your pajamas. You have enough stuff to last a couple hours, you’ll just go then.

After you scrub your hands within an inch of their life, you open the medicine cabinet and pull out some good ol’ painkillers. As desperate as you are to get rid of this pain, you’re not desperate enough to wash the pills down with water from the tap. Not yet, anyway.

Wanting nothing more than to be at the peak of coziness right now while your insides tear themselves apart, you throw on one of Zayne’s sweaters and leave the bedroom to face the cruel day ahead.

You see Zayne’s head peeking out over the top of the couch as he reads a medical book, as big as his head and as thick as your arm. You would chastise him for working, but he’d say he’s reading for his leisure. The threat of an oncoming cramp forces you to ignore him and turn to the kitchen.

“I already got you a glass of water,” he calls. He turns to look at you over the couch, expression softening with sympathy as you double over, hugging yourself as though you could compress all the pain into a tiny little ball. It grows in intensity for a moment, forcing a whimper from your throat, before finally receding. You take a deep breath and stand back up, continuing to hug yourself. “Come sit down, my love. I’ll make you some tea.”

How could you refuse? You shuffle over and settle down into the plush cushions. You almost whine when he gets up, but you bite it back. You do pout, though, which makes him smile despite your pain.

He rounds the couch and plants a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ll only be a minute. Take your medicine.”

The water is still nice and cold when you take a sip from it. So cold you can feel it running down your throat. The pills go down smoothly, and you’re more than grateful not to be choking on pain meds today of all days.

You close your eyes and lean back into the couch, abandoning your slippers on the floor in favor of tucking your feet underneath you. You can hear the kettle starting to bubble as he opens and closes cabinets, gathering what he needs to make you the perfect cup of liquid gold to ease your suffering. The thought brings a mix of guilt and affection; both upset that he is taking care of you on his day off, and glee that he’s, well, taking care of you on his day off. If this was the weekend, maybe you wouldn’t feel as guilty. As it is, he has work again tomorrow, and he had work yesterday, so it’s not so much a day off as it is taking a house call.

He returns with a matching pair of mugs, steam rising from the tops and the warm smell of tea and bitter coffee filling the air. He sets his drink of choice down on the coffee table, but you greedily cradle yours to your chest, letting the heat warm your face and the scent relax your body. He sits back down beside you, drawing you closer to him while being extra careful not to spill your tea. He doesn’t say anything about you wearing his sweater, but he does playfully tug on the hem, signaling that he’s noticed.

You smile for the first time today and tilt your head up to kiss him good morning. “Thank you,” you hum, kissing him again for good measure, before adding, “and I’m sorry.”

He shoots you a disapproving look, softened from his lack of glasses and the morning light coming in from the windows. “Don’t apologize. It’s completely out of your control.” He slips his hand under the sweater to massage gently right where you need it. You relax into it immediately, practically melting against him as he takes care of you. His massages are always the best, and they drastically lessen the cramps that torment you this morning. “Do you need anything else, my love?”

You make a disgruntled noise at the reminder. “I need more product.” You quickly cover his hand with one of yours, heated from holding your mug, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. “It can wait a bit longer, though.”

He chuckles softly, but he makes no attempts to move. His fingers press gently into you, seeking out where you need it the most. You hiss as another cramp assaults you. You instinctively draw your knees up, leaning more of your weight into him as you curl up. He slips beneath the final layers of clothes to lay his warm palm fully over your lower abdomen. The heat sinks in slowly, but it does help.

“Can we watch a movie?” you ask as the pain comes back down, voice slightly rough. “Unless you wanna keep working.”

“Reading a book isn’t working,” he retorts, fully catching onto your jab. You point it out nearly every time you go to the library and he checks out something from the medical section.

“It is when it’s almost a thousand pages of nothing but medications and surgical procedures.”

He leans forward to reach the remote and passes it on to you. While you turn the TV on, he also grabs his mug, before relaxing back into the couch. “What do you want to watch?” he asks instead of continuing to pointlessly defend himself.

You hum noncommittally as you scroll through the library of films and shows, ready to watch at the press of a button. There were a few medical dramas you liked watching with Zayne, if only to listen to him correct the show or insult how unprofessional the main cast is, but they don’t really strike your fancy right now. Something funny would be nice. Or something comforting.

It’s only a matter of time before you put on a familiar movie you’ve seen about a thousand times. Zayne makes no comment on this. Instead, he blows gently on the surface of his coffee and takes a tentative sip. His coffee contains enough sugar to mostly negate the bitter flavor of the drink, but it’s just perfect for him. You drop the remote to the side and take a sip of your drink as well, humming at the perfect flavors that ease down your throat. The morning sun warms you both.

-

“Get up for a moment.”

You hum sleepily, looking at him with tired confusion. “The movie isn’t over,” you mumble.

He gives you a reassuring smile as he rubs your back. “I know, my love. I’m not leaving yet.”

With a gentle nudge, you pull your feet from under you and stand on wobbly legs. You watch as he lays out along the couch, legs parted, and gestures for you to lay back down. He can almost see the spark of excitement in your eye as you situate yourself on top of him, your legs between his and your head tucked safely under his chin. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch overtop of you, before wrapping you in his arms. One hand massages the tension from your lower back while the other pets your hair. It’s heaven, being in his arms like this. You melt fully into him, forgetting the movie in favor of hiding from the sun outside, burying your face in his chest and shoulder, and breathing him in deep. He smells warm and sweet, with the shock of his aftershave. He smells like home.

You scoot upward to hide your face in his neck. He welcomes you readily, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m sorry I’m ruining your day off,” you mumble.

He tilts his head toward yours slightly, hiding you further from the sun. “How did you ruin it?” he asks softly. “I get to watch one of your favorite movies with you while we cuddle. How is that ruining my day?”

“Cuz you have to take care of me…”

“I always take care of you.”

You huff. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do.” He rests his cheek against you. His lips brush your forehead as he speaks, like little kisses with each word. “Why do you think taking care of you would detract from my enjoyment of being around you?”

You remain quiet. The only reason he knows you haven’t fallen asleep yet is because of the hand you have on his chest that traces shapes over his shirt. He stops massaging your back to catch it, holding it firmer to himself.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend my day off.”

Your sigh fans across his skin, making the hairs on his arms raise. “I love you…”

He smiles. You feel it against your forehead as he kisses you again. “Get some rest. When you wake up, I’ll run to the store.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter

[miguelhugger2099]

<<Prev Next>>

Nerdy!Miguel that took up extra hours at his part time job so that he could have enough money for new clothes.

Nerdy!Miguel that tried different hairstyles and got contacts to get rid of his glasses.

Nerdy!Miguel who practiced in the mirror a million times different phrases to use on you—the ones the internet told him would work.

Nerdy!Miguel who feels uncomfortable in his new persona but it’s all for you, so it’s worth it.

Nerdy!Miguel who doesn’t mind changing himself as long as you can finally notice him.

Nerdy!Miguel that gulps when he sees you, his palms sweaty by his side.

He approaches you while he plasters on a confident grin. You notice him at the corner of your eye and smile. “Hey, Miggy!” You wave. He feels his knees go weak but he shrugs it off as best as he can. “Trying something new? Looks good.” You feel yourself blushing—Miguel has his hair gelled back, his eyes more noticeable now that they’re not behind glasses and his body in more snug clothing compared to his baggy sweats and hoodies.

“I know.” He scoffs, placing his arm on the wall beside you to lean in closer. Miguel sees you blush and he grows excited. It worked! “You’d look better in something less.”

His comment throws you off and you tilt your head in confusion. “I’m…sorry?”

“Forgiven, sweetheart.”

You try to lean back. “What?” Your eyebrows turn down in confusion and feeling a bit uncomfortable and offended.

“It was a joke, baby. Now give me back that smile, you look nice with that on.” Miguel puffs his chest and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He’s not sure if this is working.

Any other day if Miguel called you baby, it’d probably turn you a puddle of mush but this time, it felt icky.

“Um, okay—uh…” You turn around and luckily find a friend. You turn back to Miguel with a frown on your lips. “I’ll…see you later, Mig…” You quickly scurry away, feeling weird about that whole interaction. Maybe this was just one of his off days? Or a bad day?

Miguel watches you leave, biting his bottom lip while his heart jumps around. Was he doing it wrong? How did the guys online do it? He’ll study some more later.

Nerdy!Miguel who goes home and dives back into his comfy sweaters, hugging his Pikachu plushie as he listens to more podcasts…

[gay-dorito-dust]

Bro...reader is verbally abuse by stan for like 30 years and ford their last hope just dismissed them like that....what if reader have revenge

They died after weirdmageddon BUT!! but they become a ghost or a vengeful spirit that can't leave Stan or Ford alone because they both are the source of their suffering

Reader is just a chill and kind ghost when it comes to the twins, Wendy, Soos and others but they are a MENACE when it comes to Ford and Stan and just verbally and emotionally torments them and they can't get rid of them not even when they want to

I want reader to have revenge I want my favorite character suffering from their horrible choices cause two can play that game

.ah yes, someone who also knows that forgiveness isn’t easily given either

Also I’d like to think ghost!reader only reveals themself to Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Wendy but refused to show themselves when Ford or Stan ask.

Their reaction to Stan and Ford might be quite…violent such as throwing things, causing things to break especially if they are holding it and or even gaining the ability to screech loudly to the point the windows break, forcing Stan to fork out even more money to get them repaired.

Dipper and Mabel saw you as a ghost that didn’t get the rest required to pass on. That and they felt bad that you died protecting them.

Stan and Ford saw you as a ghost of their failure to reconcile sooner, you died protecting Dipper and Mabel during Weridmagedon, but before you passed on you said ‘I’ll always be with them, never you.’ And soon after, dipper and Mabel told them that they saw your ghost wandering the halls of the mystery shack with a blue glow to your translucent form.

However with Stan and Ford, you were barely seen. but they could feel your pain, your hurt and betrayal so thickly it physically chokes before having to react quickly before getting hit by a flying worktable heading towards them, as it then smashed to bits against the wall.

‘They’re pissed.’ Stan states.

‘That’s more than warranted. We did accuse them without letting them explain themselves.’ Ford replied as Bills words haunted him still, so much for a man of silence and logic, maybe he was a heartless monster for not hearing you out.

Stan looks at his twin with sympathy but that didn’t last long as a ear piercing wail came next, from you they assumed, as it reached a pitch that made anything made of glass shatter or splinter. It was obvious you weren’t happy that they were still here and alive while you weren’t and you were taking it out on them; which they knew was more then deserved but they knew they couldn’t continue living like this for much longer.

They tried everything to get rid of your spirit but everything failed, they even brought a medium to see what you want, and all they said to Stan and Ford while tears streamed down their face was; ‘they want you both to suffer like you’ve made them suffer for thirty years. And when and if either of you enter the afterlife, they hope that your souls would be trapped within the shack for all of entirety, just so they can torment you some more until the shack burns down to nothing but cinders.’

Welp, that didn’t work.

You watched over dipper and Mabel as they slept and ventured out into the forest, all the while destroying the shack however you could whenever Stan or Ford entered the room; even the lab was completely destroyed with important research going missing and or torn to shreds. You didn’t want anyone to be happy but Dipper and Mabel and you’d even keep them up at night by throwing the pots and pans against walls and breaking countertops with your newfound strength.

It was fun for you, but torture for them and this continued for a long, long time.

[twilightcitysky]

Courtship

“Crowley, come in! I was just redecorating.”

“Really? You never redecorate. Last change you made was in 1860, when you had the plumbing installed.”

Aziraphale smiled at him. “After everything that happened, I started thinking things over,” he said tenderly. “We almost lost the bookshop, but here it is, good as new. We almost lost the world, and… and now that we didn’t, I want to make some changes. I think it’s time.”

Crowley frowned. “Here, have you got something in your eye? You keep blinking.”

Aziraphale stopped trying to flutter his eyelashes. “I’ve painted the back room,” he said eventually, in a more normal tone of voice. “Would you like to see?”

He headed towards the door without waiting for an answer and pushed it open. “What do you think?”

“Oh, um. Very nice. I might’ve gone with a warm gray, or maybe mother-of-pearl… but yellow’s good too.”

“I happen to like this particular shade of yellow,” Azirphale said, a trifle testily. “Very much.”

Crowley held up his hands. “Hey, it’s your bookshop. Are you ready for lunch?”

*

“What’s this?”

“They’re flowers. Roses, dahlias, and a few Peruvian lilies.”

"What do they do?"

Aziraphale, holding out the intricately beribboned, carefully wrapped and above all expensive display from the most exclusive florist in London, began to feel a bit awkward. "They… smell nice, I suppose? And they can brighten up a room."

Crowley peered over his glasses. "Sure, for a little while. But they're cut, see?" He touched the bottom of the bouquet, as if Aziraphale perhaps hadn't noticed. "They'll die in a week."

“I suppose. I thought you might–”

“Is this more redecorating? I can help with that, no problem. Listen, why don’t I get rid of these for you… and if you’re wanting something for the bookshop, we’ll get a nice rubber plant to put under the window.”

Aziraphale sighed.

*

“Oi, angel! Think you dropped something!” Crowley jogged to catch up with him and put the matte black box, which he’d left on the seat of the Bentley, back into his hands.

“Ah. Actually, you see… that was for you.” Aziraphale felt his cheeks heat. “In case you got peckish,” he added lamely.

“This fancy stuff? Men break into bedrooms at midnight to leave this kind of chocolate next to pillows. Saw it in an advert.”

Aziraphale brightened. “Would you like me to break into your bedroom?” he asked, a tad breathlessly.

Crowley laughed. “What for? Listen, why don’t you have these. You’ll appreciate ‘em more than I will.”

*

“Are you ready to go?” Crowley glanced at his watch.

“Just one more thing. I. Er. I-thought-you-could-wear-this,” Aziraphale said in a rush. “If you like.”

Crowley took the velvet box from his trembling hand.

He opened it. “It’s…”

“Yes?”

“It’s very sparkly.” Crowley held the ring up to the light.

“It’s a diamond,” Aziraphale said desperately. “A diamond ring.”

“Oh. And you’re givin’ it to me because…”

“I–” Aziraphale stopped. He searched Crowley’s face, looking for a flicker of understanding. “My dear, I would like–”

“Oh wait, let me guess. It’s for your magic act, right? Are you practicing palming again, or is this the sort of ring that squirts ink when you twist the jewel?” Crowley pulled curiously at a glittering stone the size of his thumbnail. “Happy to help if you need an assistant. Just no more bullet tricks, okay?”

Aziraphale stared at him. “Yes,” he replied dully. “My magic act. Yes. Exactly. I’m trying to make something appear.”

“Got it in one!” Crowley gave him a pleased grin. “I know you so well, angel.”

“I daresay you do.”

Aziraphale followed him out to the car. There’s nothing else for it, he thought. I’ll have to throw a cotillion ball.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Imposter: Neige LeBlanche

He’s the shining crewmate in cyan

With a reputation of snow

He’s innocent in any situation 

There's always an out 

Even if he’s found with blood splashed on his suit

He’s nothing but an unfortunate witness traumatized beyond belief

So traumatized he can’t recall who it was

Until its most convenient

“I-i’m so sorry everyone…I witness something so horrible the least I should do is be able to help…I-i’ll try my best for everyone.”

So it's best if he travels with you

The crewmate so determined to find the imposter

Or even the unconvinced crewmate who keeps giving him the side-eye

So why don’t you pair up with him?

Despite his flawless alibi, overwhelming lack of evidence, and testimony from trusted crewmates your friends

Somehow he can’t get you close enough

wHy ARe yOu BeINg sO dIfFiCUlt!?

At this rate, he’ll the imposter have to kill the whole crew before you give him anything but a passing gaze glare

But he’s a good crewmate liar

You’ll have no choice but to believe him when they eject the ‘real’ imposter:

You stared through the impact glass at the vastness of the space and the decreasing figure of the purple suit. A haze of finality and unreaching, endlessness ebbing your resolve, you tightened your fists; digging your nails into your palms. It hardly did much to distract you from the feeling in your heart but you’d take what you could.

“(Y/n), Rook set a course back to Innersloth…we’re going home.”

You ignored him, not even bothering to look at his worried reflection behind you, keeping your eyes on the spot you last found the supposed imposter’s floating body. The news brought nothing but guilt and rage. At who? You, the remaining crewmates, the dead, Neige? Even with the evidence pointing to your dearest friend and the innocence proclaimed to him you couldn’t ignore the feeling in your gut. 

The same one that told you to stay with your friend, even when he insisted you two split up for just a second. The same push that had you doubting the one in cyan from the very beginning. Even with his innocence being proven every time without fail, you couldn’t disregard the compass that held tried and true for this whole nightmare.

“(Y/n), maybe you should join me in the cafeteria! I recently made a pie for everyone to enjoy!”

“...Not everyone.”

Neige stiffened before letting his eyes and lips curve into a smile as he shed a tear. 

“You’re right *sniff* Not for everyone…but maybe in their honor?”

You resisted the urge to sneer at him. That voice. That face. Those tears. He was doing it again! Whether it was acting or mimicry it didn’t sit right with you; it never did. And even now in the wake of the majority of your crew’s death, it didn’t incur the empathy he so often elicited from onlookers. In your deepest of hearts you rationalized that was why he seemed so insistent on trying his tactics on you. 

“You can enjoy it without me…who’s to say the imposter really is off the ship anyway?”

At those words he made a face, puckering his lips and folding his hands to protest. You spoke, glaring at the despicable reflection of yourself in the window.

“ We’ve been wrong before. What’s to say we aren’t again?”

“B-but nothing has been broken! And we’ve split up many a time before and none of us have died! Don’t you think that means we finally got rid of the—”

“Imposter? Please, it make more sense to stay hidden now since they want a free ride to headquarters.”

Tightly closing your eyes,  you turned narrowly missing the ungloved hand attempting to grab your shoulder. Making your way out of the bay you went for the door, flashing a look toward Neige who hadn’t turned around and was still facing the window. You turned your attention officially storming off, to do whatever it was you felt like doing without his presence. 

The imposter stood still, blankly smiling at the star system as he tightly clenched his fists. Of course, it’d be like you to suspect such a plan. Only you. But you were just so uptight how could you go bringing such negativity to the Innersloth head quarters after such a hefty loss? It’d be best for him everyone if you had a relaxant relaxed a little. Smiling a bit after such dark times was healthy. And only a good crewmate would keep their remaining teammates healthy, even if their suspicions were debilitating to that health.

Right?

[yenqa]

lucky day

in which jake freaks out and sells you coffee for 90% off for “wear a blue shirt” day.

warnings — profanity, umm theyre awkward

pairing — jake x gn!reader

wordcount — 612

a/n — happy jake day!! technically its tmrw for me but who cares!!

You push the door open, smiling at the ring of the bell when you walk in, standing still, you scan the menu, praying they have your order.

Spotting it, you let out a smile walking up to the counter, hearing the familiar greeting.

“Hi! What can I get for you?” Jake cringes at his shaky voice, but you just smile sweetly at him, saying your order. He nods, quietly repeating your order to himself, hands slightly jittery at the pretty person in front of him.

Realizing he’s taking way too long to punch in your order, he looks up at you with wide eyes, letting out an awkward apology before finishing the order.

You chuckle, saying, “No worries, I probably would take awhile to punch in an order too.”

Jake straightens himself, now looking down slightly at you, “Third day on the job.” He jokes. You laugh along with him, noticing his slight accent.

“Where’s your accent from?”

“Sorry?”

“Your accent, did you live abroad for a while?”

He’s slightly shocked that you even noticed it, he’s tried to keep it hidden but he soon realized it was harder than it seemed. He nods, “I used to live in Australia,” He says, finished inputting your order.

You let your mouth open slightly, “That’s pretty far from here! Must’ve been a pretty big change for you to move.”

“I wouldn’t mind doing it again to see a pretty face like yours.”

Giving him a slightly shocked stare, it’s quickly transferred to a flustered smile, trying to look at anything with him. Though he seems entirely flustered too, looking down at the till trying to distract himself.

Quickly getting rid of your smile you look back at him, “So..?”

“So what?”

“What’s my total, pretty boy?”

He chokes on his saliva, barely letting out a “60 cents.”

“What? Isn’t my coffee supposed to be 6 dollars?”

Fuck, maybe hiring him for the job wasn’t the best idea management had considering he couldn’t read when someone gorgeous was infront of him. Though, his mistake was already out and he was too embarrassed to take it back, instead, he says the first thing to come to mind.

“It’s “Wear a blue shirt day”, you get 90% off!”

He thinks he’s officially done for.

“I’m not wearing blue?” You look down at your very obviously, white shirt. Looking back up you see him with a dumbfounded expression.

“I guess today’s your lucky day!” He answers, you let out a weirded our expression paired with a smile. Handing him some coins you chuckle at the few coins falling into his hands, giving him your name and walking to an empty place.

He hastily makes your drink, adding the correct mixture before calling out your name, patiently waiting for you to walk up to him.

“Thank you, pretty boy,” You grab the drink, letting your hands ever so lightly brush his hands.

“I’ll see you around, right?”

You laugh, nodding and walking to the doors. Once you exit the cafe, you’re quick to spin your drink around for any part you need to mix, instead, you’re met with a handwritten message, one rushed to write.

Stopping to read it, you scan the text, “i’d like to see you again, call me? (you dont have to obviously) shift ends at five <3, ***-***-****.

Letting out a breathy laugh, you look through the glass walls of the cafe to see a hopeful expression. You nod at him, waving goodbye. And out of the corner of your eye, you swear you can see him celebrate.

perm taglist — @jwnghyuns @ja4hyvn @trsrina @redm4ri @badmuni @yeokii @enhastolemyheart @softpia @s00buwu @ox1-lovesick @boyfhee @hanniluvi @teddywonss

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 12

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“How about it, Holly?” Steve’s voice brings you back from your trance.

You only realise then that you’ve zoned out. You look down at your plate, your burger half-eaten and the salad mostly gone. As your mom babbled on, you’d lost yourself staring out at the lawn. It didn’t really matter, she barely acknowledged you since you came out with dinner.

You glance between her and Steve, lost in the conversation already underway.

“I’d love that, it will be nice,” your mom answers, beaming across the table; the shade of the umbrella gathering in the lines of her face.

“How about you, kiddo? Grab you pajamas and join the party,” Steve looks at you.

“Huh?” You and your mom utter in unison.

“Both of us?” She asks in a brittle quaver.

“Yeah, sure, it’ll be a nice way to connect. Holly, I know you’re a mother first, it’s a package deal.”

“Mm, yeah, I just... I misinterpreted,” she puts her hand against her neck. “A sleepover, that’s fun.”

“I felt bad about last time. Don’t want anyone left out of movie night. I got popcorn, mph,” he turns to you again, “do you like cream soda? I got some cane stuff in the glass bottles--”

“That’s a lot of sugar,” your mother murmurs.

“It’s one night,” he shrugs, “it won’t hurt. Lots to go around.”

“I guess...” she forces a smile.

“Well, we can always hold off. I did promise ice cream,” he sits back and claps his thighs. “You all done?”

You stare at the table then look up in the silence. You don’t realise he’s talking to you. You nod. Your stomach won’t settle. It’s been off all day; you wonder if maybe the maple syrup was a bit too much yesterday.

“I’ll wrap it up for you, you can have it later if you want,” he stands and takes your plate, then your mother’s and his own. Where you nibbled through barely half, they had nothing left.

You sit back and cross your arms as Steve goes inside. Your mother sighs and glares past you. She’s annoyed even if you hadn’t made the decision yourself. You didn’t even accept the invitation.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes, “you just can’t help but get in the way.”

She leans forward. When she’s angry, her tremors worsen. She’s barely able to keep her head still.

“I didn’t...”

“Oh, be quiet. He only feels bad for you because he knows I can’t get rid of you,” she sneers. “He knows you have nothing go for you. No job, no friends, no hobbies.” She sits back and huffs, “I tried to raise you better. I really did. I don’t know what happened.”

You lower your head. Maybe you can come up with a lie. If you can find an excuse to leave, she won’t be able to hate you.

“I could say I’m not feeling well--”

“Just stay out of the way,” she snarls.

You sniff and turn away, hiding the gloss of tears in your eyes. Sometimes, you don’t do anything at all and she’s mad. You hear Steve coming back out and you wipe your nose, keeping your face down as you shrink.

You can be invisible. You’re good at that.

🏠

Not wanting to seem ungrateful, you accept a bowl of ice cream and finish it. Strawberry. It's delicious but you just can't enjoy it. You're uneasy, unsure.

You go to grab some pajamas, your mother issuing another warning before you return to Steve's. You wear a pair of polka dot bottoms and a jersey shirt. You'll just be watching tv, and hopefully, if you can settle down, sleeping.

Your mother sits on the couch. You can see the fatigue quivering in her lip and drooping in her eyelids. She never did as much before your new neighbour. You only ever stayed inside and wilted in the sunlight.

"Holly, you need anything?" Steve asks as he pushes up the ottoman, "how about you put your feet up. I just wanted to show her something."

"What's that?" Your mom asks.

"Oh, yeah, well, I know she likes art so I wanted to show her my studio. Or office, whatever you wanna call it."

"Mm, right. Upstairs, huh?" She grumbles.

"Right," he confirms, "we won't be too long. You can find a movie." He hands her the remote, "I had some extra pencils and stuff I found on the move. Figured she could take em off my hands."

"Sure, sure," she yawns and leans her head in her hands. You can't tell if she's witholding herself out of exhaustion or for Steve's benefit.

"Come on. We'll just pop up for minute," Steve nudges your arm.

You hug one arm across your stomach and push your shoulder up. You take his direction as he points you actoss the room. You go to the stairs and climb one by one.

Further down, he takes you into another room, just across from an open bedroom. You shuffle inside and can't help marvel at the interior. The walls are hung with still lifes in pencil, charcoal, and ink, and an easel stands by the window, a large drafting table at the center of the room.

"You do these?" You ask bluntly.

"Ha, yeah, I... when I saw your sketchbook, I admit, I got a bit excited. A fellow artist."

"You're an artist? You make money off of this?"

"Sure do," he smiles proudly. "Did some time in the army then had to get out, find some peace. Always found painting calms me."

"Oh."

"I wanted to say something sooner but I wanted to show you," he enters and brushes by you, hand dragging across your back. "Let me find those pencils."

You nod and pace cautiously around the table. There's an open sketchbook. A woman's naked back greets you, a piece of fabric draped around her hips as her refined profile is etched perfectly.

He's good. Better than you. You back away as he sorts through the shelf.

'Ah, here," he turns to you again, "pencils, sketchbook, oh and maybe you'll want these watercolours. I was sent two by accident."

"Oh, uh, thanks, but... you don't have to."

"You're talented. You'll make good use of them, I know it."

"Mm, I... try."

"There's this place I know. Great view. Maybe you can come one day. Good fodder," he offers. "Trees, water, and the sunset..."

"Maybe," you agree half-heartedly.

"Then maybe you can bring it to my next art show."

"Art show?" You mutter, eyes rounding.

"Sure. It'll be good for you. I know you take care of your mom and that's sweet but you gotta make your way. Eventually."

"I know," you slump and take the sketchbooks and flat tins from him. "Thank you. I..." you look at the brand names. You know they're expensive from the catalogues you look at but never buy from. "No one... these are so nice. I appreciate it."

"No problem, sweetie. Let me know if you need anything else. Hell, if you want a quiet place to work..." he stops behind you and looks around, "even just an escape..."

“That's okay,” you say as you go back into the hall.

You head back downstairs, the pencils clattering just a little in your hands. As you enter the living room, you hear a snort. Your mom's head lolls back against the couch as she snores. Steve walks into you from behind as he stops too late.

“Oop,” he frames your hips for just a moment as he presses again your back then parts. “Sleepyhead,” he chuckles and sidles past you, a waft of his cologne filling your lungs. He didn't smell so strongly before. “Well, guess it's your choice, sweetie,” he takes the remote and holds it out to you.

“Oh, uh, you choose,” you try to wave him off but he pushes the remote into your hand.

“You can put your stuff on the table,” he points to the sketchbook clutches against your chest, “better get cozy while I get the popcorn going.”

Before you can argue, he's gone. You turn to look at your mom. Why did she have to fall asleep? She could've said no to all of this, that she's too tired. Now it's you and Steve. Hopefully, the movie keeps the chatter to a minimum.

[strawberrymitsuriii]

Junk

Android class 1-A x fem reader

Manga Time skip class 1-A characters!!!!

Warnings: yandere themes,imply NSFW, weird androids,imply dubcon, horror themes, uhh if I forgot anything please let me know!

-

A Series of knocks on the door woke you up from your deep sleep. You tried to ignore it at first, covering both of your ears with your pillows and while trying to go back to dream land but it was impossible by how loud the knocks were getting.

You groan in frustration as you got up from bed and slipped in your comfy slippers before making your way out your bedroom and to downstairs.

You looked through the peephole on your door. Ready to curse the hell outta the person who decided to ruin your precious sleep by how loud they were banging on your door but you frown as you notice it was your friend. You opened the door, ready to curse at him for banging on your door this late at night and to also ask if he needed anything.

But before anything can leave your mouth he pushes you inside before locking your door and looking through the peephole. His hair was disheveled and his glasses were crooked and he looked like he hasn’t slept or eaten in days!

Yeah something was definitely wrong

“Damn you look….horrible” But he doesn’t say anything. Not even a quick comeback or an offended look. He was just…quiet.

“Hey…is everything ok-”

“Hey can you do me a favor?”

“Eh?” You were dumbfounded. You didn’t expect that to be the first thing that comes out of his mouth after rudely waking you up at 2 in the morning.

“Uhh I guess? What is it”

“Can my androids stay here? For a week or two?”

“Hell no” With no hesitation you declined his request.

“Please! C’mon don’t be like that y/n!”

“Have you seen your creepy robots? HELL NO”

“C’mon just this once! I’ll pay you even but please can I have them stay here!” He was practically begging at this point. Kneeling down on the floor as he clung to your legs.

“H-hey! Get up loser! FUCK okay I’ll do it but please get up! It’s creeping me out” You didn’t see or notice that HUGE relief that washed over this man’s face. He quickly gets up and thanks you before grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“I’ll bring them in now!” Your eyes widen as you quickly stepped up in front of him. Blocking the door with your body.

“Whoa slow down buddy. What do you mean “bringing them in” ????”

“They are all in my truck”

“All?!” Your eyes were practically bulging out of your sockets. Mouth wide opened and all.

“Yeah now get out of my way!” He opens the door and you shiver as the cold air hit you.

“You’re going to be the one bringing them all in! It’s too cold and slippery for me out there!”

“Whatever!” He yells from outside.

You flip him off before yelling for him to close and lock the door on his way out after bringing in his “creepy bots”. He of course yells out a quick “I will!” Before turning to look at his truck.

Multiple glowing red eyes stare back at him. He feels a wave of guilt and he’s now starting to rethink this whole thing.

Maybe I shouldn’t leave these things with her

I should’ve burned them when I had the chance

I can’t do this to her

He quickly begins grabbing the droids one by one as he wanted to get rid of them as fast as possible.

Once it came to the last one, he quickly makes his way to the door.

“I’m sorry. I can’t deal with those things anymore” he whispers before locking and closing the door.

-

The next morning you woke up by the feeling of being watched. You sat up but the moment you did you screamed at the thing at the foot of your bed.

There at the foot of your bed stood a women- er well women droid?

She has short brown hair, rosy cheeks, and brown eyes.

She looked…so real. So alive.

You placed your hand over your beating heart as you cursed at your friend.

“Fucking prick. He probably thought this was funny and decided to place his creepy droid at the foot of my bed” You say to yourself as you got up.

Fuck she looks so…real

You took one last glance before walking to the bathroom to get ready for the day. Unbeknownst to you, you don’t notice the glowing red circle on her neck and the deep glow of red eyes before they switch to brown.

-

The following days went like normal. You did the small tasks your friend sent you like brushing the girl androids hair, specifically Momo Yaoyorozu. From what he said she tends to get a bit more upset by having tangles on her hair.

Whatever the hell that means

Some other tasks were small and short

Like making sure to clean one of the male droid, Tenya Iida’s glasses.

And others were kinda, weird.

For example, making sure you always leave a notebook and pen near Izuku midoriya. He says the droid can’t live without it.

Another weird one is to always check up on the droid denki kaminari. Saying he doesn’t like being alone for long periods of time.

And so that’s basically how you live now. Doing the small tasks and since you work from home, you always are there to do the stuff you need to do.

But you wouldn’t lie about how creepy the androids are. And you swear you saw one of them move this one time. But you quickly brushed it off as something you imagine.

You remember calling your friend about it but he quickly tells you to not worry about it. He was stumbling over some of his words but other than that he said everything is fine. That the droids can’t move or do anything without being activated which means, they aren’t on.

And you felt huge relief when he told you that.

Yeah must’ve been your imagination

But there was one thing kenji didn’t tell you

Once it’s activated, it can never turn back off.

-

It was a Sunday night. You finished your work for the day and tasks. You were currently sitting in your living room couch snacking while watching one of your favorite shows. You decided to move the androids in a spare room since you didn’t like how they basically took all over your living room.

So far living with your friend creepy robots wasn’t bad. Yeah it was weird and uncomfortable for the first two or three days but you grew use to it.

Plus, you have a huge mansion to yourself that your parents and grandparents left behind for you so having those droids here isn’t a big problem.

As you continue to eat your snack, in the corner of your eye you swear you see a head peeking out. You quickly turn to look but it was like nothing was there. You turn back to the show that was playing but you continue to sneak glances at the corner that you saw the head peeking out from.

After a long shower you decided to throw on a huge black t-shirt and some sleeping shorts.

You took some sleeping pills after your shower and you can already feel it starting to kick in. Getting comfortable and cozy on your bed, you close your eyes and drift off to dream land. Unaware of the glowing red eyes coming from your closet.

….

….

“Is she sleeping?”

“Those are sleeping pills no? Those knock her out like a light so yes, she’s asleep”

“So pretty”

“Agree” Soon your bed was surrounded. All 19 androids surrounded your sleeping form.

“Stupid kenji, he should’ve destroyed us instead of dumping us on his friend”

“Did you see his face when he brought us here? He looked like he was regretting his choice” One of the girls giggle.

“Yeah, and guess what? He still took us to her!”

“I’m glad he did. It’s interesting watching her live her life normally as if she isn’t being watched 24/7”

“What a pretty sleeper”

They watch as you slept. One of them then slowly pulled down the covers and they all leaned in closer as they noticed how little clothing you had on.

Mina giggled before running her cold metal hands down your legs.

“Soft!” Another one of the girls quickly pulled down your shorts. Everyone watched as you squirmed. Probably because of the cold room.

Lastly, your underwear was pulled down and your legs were spread as everyone looked.

“So this is what the vagina looks like”

“So cute!”

“After doing some research, this is the area human women feel good in”

“Okay, who’s first?”

-

The next day you woke up sore. You wince at the uncomfortable ache between your legs and you lift up the covers.

Everything looked normal

You still had your shorts and underwear on

“Weird” You turn to look at the clock.

8:00 am

You sigh and got off bed. It was almost time for your daily hair brushing routine that your friend, kenji, told you about.

You finish your quick morning routine in the bathroom and quickly started making your way downstairs with the stuff that you’ll need.

You unlock the door to the spare room and felt relief seeing that everyone was in their usual spots.

You took a seat at an empty space on the couch and started pulling out all the different combs and hair brushes.

Follow this order

First to get their hair brush is Momo

Second Mina

Third tsuyu

Fourth hagakure

Fifth Ochako

And lastly, six being jirou

Not a difficult task at all. You were working on hagakure when you swore you heard the sound of a camera go off. You stopped brushing the droids long locks as you turned around.

The only thing that was behind you was the izuku and katsuki android. You frown before brushing it off and doing what you were doing.

Until you heard it again

*Click*

Now you were starting to get a little creeped out. You placed the brush back on the table before getting up and turning around.

Kenji told me these androids were off. So it can’t be them. Right?

You eyed the two behind you before walking around the room to see what was the cause of the noise.

But after minutes of searching you didn’t find anything.

“Okay maybe I’m just going crazy” you took a seat and decided to finish brushing the droids hair so you can get up and out of this room.

You were onto your last android when you heard the noise again and this time you were fast enough to catch the red glow that was bakugo’s eye.

Your heart dropped and that’s when all the androids in the room knew their cover was blown.

“Aw I wanted to continue scaring her!” You gasp and you turned around to see the android, Mina, glaring at the blonde.

“What the hell-“ You were cut off by a groan.

“The hell katsuki!”

“Shut the hell up it wasn’t even my fault!”

As everyone kept bickering back and forth, you were still left confused, scared, and angry.

Kenji told me these damn bots were off! What the hell!

“Hey where do you think you’re going?!” Everyone heads quickly snap towards your direction and you froze.

“I um…bathroom?”

“She’s lying. She’s planning on running away” you felt chills down your spine as you watched all of their eyes turn red.

“Don’t you dare leave like how that damn kenji did”

“W-what?”

“He dumped us here to get rid of us! But living here with you isn’t bad so this time we’ll make sure you don’t leave like how he did!” Said the android named sero.

Kenji…he? No! That’s impossible he would never!

“We’ll make sure you never leave us!”

First post!