#just comes home and is like hey I got new oven mitts -

[katzirrart]

Becca and I have a long standing joke about characters using fainting couches and me referencing that - but I think Loki is the first one I've been like "Wait, no... he would actually use one - THAT BITCH WOULD CONJURE ONE UP..."

We were joking around about Mobius randomly bringing up the Hulk event, or like gag gifts of Hulk merch. And just Loki being overly dramatic about him teasing him about his trauma~

[writingwithciara]

birthday cake -quinn hughes-

summary: quinn believes everyone forgot his birthday in favor of thanksgiving. but that's simply not the case

word count: 2k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

notes: in honor of the love of my life's birthday, i decided to cook up this little gem. hope everyone enjoys it. (should've been posted on his birthday but i got super busy because of thanksgiving & other projects i'm working on)

"hey quinn. do you have any plans for monday?"

"actually, yes." quinn looked up from his phone as brock entered the room. "why?"

"my sister wanted to invite you over to her place for thanksgiving. she said she gave you an invitation the other day but you just shoved it in your bag and that you haven't said anything to her since then."

"that's what that was? i thought she was just handing me some mail that was put in the wrong box."

"have you not seen her since tuesday? you live across the hall from each other."

"i know but our schedules haven't given us the time to chat. she's working when i'm home, and vice versa."

"you should text her and tell her you're going to be busy on monday. i think it would be best coming from you. maybe she won't be upset."

"i'll text her after practice." quinn set his phone in his bag and finished lacing up his skates.

during practice, everyone was talking about y/n's thanksgiving dinner. quinn was the only one who wouldn't be attending. and while he felt bad about it, seeing as she was one of his good friends, he also started to feel bad for himself.

monday was also his 25th birthday but it seemed like no one remembered.

practice went well. so when quinn walked to his car, he sent a text to y/n to let her know he wouldn't be able to show up to her dinner. he made up a lie and said he wouldn't be home.

his plan was to just stay home and watch game highlights while cooking his own meal.

when monday rolled around, y/n and brock were finishing up the food preparations when a thought occurred to y/n.

"oh my freaking god. it's the 14th today. how could i be so stupid?"

"i would love to object, or even agree, depending on what it's about." brock looked at his sister with a curious expression. he couldn't quite read her like he normally could. "care to let me know what you're talking about?"

"october 14th. quinn's birthday! how could i forget? i bake him a cake every year." y/n set her oven mitts back on the rack. "i am a terrible friend."

"i'm sure it's fine. quinn probably forgot about the cake anyway. pretty sure you're in the clear, y/n."

"brock, i've made the cake every single year since we've been friends. he loves it. you should see the way his face lights up when i deliver it to him."

"are you sure it's the cake he likes to see every year?" brock raised his eyebrow, earning a slap to the shoulder from his younger sister.

"brock, no."

"look, just bake him a cake today and give it to him tomorrow. i'm sure he won't mind."

"i don't have the time or oven space to bake a whole new cake." y/n shook her head. "i'm gonna run to the store and buy him one instead.

"people are going to be here any moment. i'm afraid it's gonna have to wait."

"can you please keep them company? i'll be back in 20 minutes."

"you're lucky you're my sister and i love you." brock smiled. "now go fix your friendship with your neighbor."

"love you, brocky." y/n kissed his forehead and went out to her car. she hated the idea of buying a cake from the store. it didn't have the personal touch that her homemade cake did and she knew it wouldn't live up to it either. but she was desperate.

when she got back to her apartment, brock was the only one there.

"nobody's here yet?"

"not yet. mom and steve are almost here. been getting location updates from steve."

"did he let mom drive?"

"yeah. that's probably why they're not here yet." brock chuckled and grabbed the cake from her hands. "this looks amazing. are you gonna try to pass it off as your own?"

"no. i could never lie to quinn." y/n smiled and took it back, setting it down in the fridge. "i'm just going to tell him the truth."

"that's new for you. are you that honest with everyone?"

"i don't think so. there's something different about quinn. he makes me want to be honest."

"have you ever lied to me?"

"no. of course not."

"okay. good." he looked at his sister. "i want you to answer a question then. i'm only gonna ask it once."

"alright. shoot."

"is there something going on between you quinn?"

"no, brock. that would be ridiculous."

"okay. i'm gonna ask it twice. is there something going on between you and quinn?"

"no. you told me he was off limits for dating, as well as the rest of your teammates. but i would be lying to you if i said i didn't think he was really good looking."

"you really think so?" brock's eyes widened at his sisters confession.

"mhm. i do. like, super insanely good looking."

"okay. well, thanks for the honesty." brock couldn't help but chuckle.

before y/n could respond, there was a knock at the door, followed by a few voices.

"sounds like your guests are here. i'll let them in." brock went to the door and opened it, letting their parents inside, along with a few other guests.

y/n spent the first half hour finishing up the meal before brock served it to everyone.

conversation flowed easily around the table, but y/n was stuck thinking about quinn. all his friends were with her and he was most likely alone.

when she stood up abruptly, it caught everyone's attention.

"are you okay?" brock asked.

"yeah. i just have something i really need to do." y/n walked over to the fridge and grabbed the cake. she left her apartment without another word and knocked on quinn's door.

"hey. what are you doing here?" quinn smiled when he answered the door.

"happy birthday." y/n handed him the cake and walked back towards her apartment.

quinn was left standing in his own doorway, staring at the cake. he was used to getting a cake from y/n every year. it was always homemade & this time, it was store bought. but he didn't care. someone actually remembered his birthday.

y/n walked back into her apartment and sat back down at the table. she ignored the looks everyone was giving her and continued eating. everyone went back to eating and talking with each other, quickly forgetting that y/n disappeared for a moment.

a few hours later, everyone was heading out. brock stayed behind to help y/n clean up.

"what did quinn say when you gave him the cake?"

"how did you know that's what i did?"

"you were beating yourself up over missing his birthday. and you left right after i told mom about quinn's goal the other night."

"i wasn't even paying attention to the conversations around me. all i could think about was how quinn's friends were here and nobody mentioned his birthday. i felt bad so i took the cake to him."

"and what did he say?"

"i have no idea. i came right back over here." y/n finished washing the last dish and handed it to brock so he could dry it.

"maybe you should go see him right now. i'm sure he would appreciate some company for the last little bit of his birthday. Oh, and take him some leftovers. dinner was delicious and i guarantee he'll love it." brock grabbed a plate and put all the food he could fit onto it. when he handed it to his sister, she hesitated. "take it to him, y/n. you can't keep beating yourself up over forgetting his birthday."

"you're right." she took the plate and walked to the door. "i'll be back."

"i'll be here." brock chuckled and started putting away the rest of the leftovers.

y/n knocked on quinn's door and waited patiently. when he opened it, she handed him the plate. he looked at her and smiled.

"what's this for?"

"thought you might like some leftovers from today."

"oh. well thank you. smells delicious." he set the plate on the table by the door. "would you like to come in? or do you still have company over there?"

"just brock." y/n smiled and walked into his apartment. "so, how was your birthday?"

"it was good. i got to have breakfast with my parents and then i went to the gym for a bit. then i got a cake delivered to me. it was amazing, by the way."

"really?" y/n smiled. "i'm sorry it wasn't homemade this year. i'm ashamed to admit that i briefly forgot about your birthday and i didn't have enough time to bake you a cake. but i can make up for it if you want."

"look, it doesn't matter to me whether it was homemade or store bought. all i care about is the company that comes with it each year." quinn smiled. "also, thank you for stopping by today. i thought everyone forgot my birthday."

"but quinn, i did forget."

"you remembered eventually. that's all that matters to me. things like that stand out and i appreciate it. more than you think." he sighed. "other than my parents, you're the only one who remembered. so, thank you."

"you're welcome. and i promise i'll make up for almost missing your 25th birthday."

"you don't have to. you're here now. and honestly, your company is the only thing i wanted this year."

"wait, really?"

"yeah. it's the one thing i look forward to for every birthday, no matter how brief it is."

"are you serious?"

"yes. very serious." quinn hesitantly reached for y/n's hand and when she didn't yank it away, he slowly intertwined his fingers with hers. "i'm not sure if you can tell but i like you. i've liked you since the first second i saw you move in across the hall. but unfortunately, i can't do anything about this."

"and why not?" y/n was confused. she liked quinn and it was becoming evident he liked her too. but she didn't understand why nothing could happen.

"you're brock's little sister. it wouldn't be right. it just-"

quinn was unable to finish his sentence. he was pulled forward and y/n's lips were placed on his, softly.

"what was that for?" he asked when y/n pulled away from the kiss.

"your birthday present, dummy." y/n smiled. "and because i like you, quinn."

"you....you do?"

"yes. i don't bake a cake for anyone else's birthday, you know."

"but what about brock?" quinn looked all over her face.

"i'm 24 years old, quinn. brock can't tell me who i can and can't have feelings for." y/n smiled and leaned closer. "besides, i think he actually wants us to be together."

"what makes you say that?"

"he kept encouraging me to come over here to see you. even gave me the plate so i'd have a reason to come over here." she glanced at quinn. "not that i didn't already have a really good reason to come and see you tonight anyway."

"i'm really glad you came over tonight. and kissed me." quinn smirked. "god, i sound like a freaking teenager when he gets his very first girlfriend."

"it's cute." y/n smiled and looked at where her leg touched his. "i think i know the answer to this, but are you enjoying your birthday?"

"i really am." he couldn't help the smile that came upon his face. "i'm still trying to get over the initial shock of you liking me back."

"it's the same for me. guess we can figure it out together, huh?"

"yeah. i guess we can." quinn held her hand and looked at her fingers. "is every part of you just perfect?"

"yes. i do believe every part of me is perfect. perfect in my own special way."

quinn chuckled at the girl he oh so admired. "would it be alright if i kissed you?"

"quinn, you know you don't have to ask." y/n smiled and gave quinn what he wanted. really, what they both wanted.

[thelatekilljoy]

Steve's new roommate is, uh... Different.

Not in any bad way. Not at all. He's just unlike any roommate Steve's ever had before. Tommy was loud, gross, messy, and a major asshole. Billy was a violent drunk, and Steve had to evict him. Jonathan was polite, but never home.

Eddie is... Well... Robin said he's like a cat, which isn't a conclusion Steve would have come to on his own, but since Rob mentioned it, he hasn't been able to get it out of his head.

Eddie Munson is a bit like a cat.

At first, he was quiet around Steve. That doesn't mean he was quiet all the time, not at all. Not only does Eddie listen to loud music, but Steve often hears him yelling in his room over one thing or another. Phone calls with his friends always have Eddie laughing hysterically and shouting happily. All behind closed doors, though. The rare times Steve's caught Eddie on the phone in the living room, Eddie got quiet and slipped into his room.

Steve knew it wasn't anything he was doing wrong. Eddie made sure he knew that on the first day he moved in.

("Hey, um. I might take a while to, uh, get used to you.")

It takes Steve's favorite hobby for Eddie to start leaving his room.

Steve hums as he bends to open the oven door. Oven mitts on, he grabs the pan and pulls it out, nudging the door up far enough with his foot so he can bump it closed with his hip. He sets the pan on the stove and turns towards the fridge, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees Eddie leaning against the door.

"Sorry," Eddie mumbles, flushing bright red. He reaches for the fridge door and holds it open for Steve. "I was just grabbing something to drink."

Steve raises an eyebrow and takes the milk out of the fridge. Eddie leans over the door a bit to peer in. He points at a can of soda. Steve grabs it and hands it over.

"Milk and cookies would be better," Steve laughs. "I'm about to burn my mouth on these, but it's going to be so worth it." He reaches over and pokes a cookie, quickly snatching his hand back at the heat.

Eddie stifles a laugh, hand over his mouth, but Steve can tell he's smiling.

"Want one?" Steve asks. He watches Eddie as he considers. His breath shudders, and he shakes his head. Steve shrugs. "I'll save you some anyway. They should be cool soon."

He turns back to the cookies to gently transfer a couple to a plate with his bare hands, but by the time he moves to grab a cup for his milk, Eddie is gone, and Steve can hear his bedroom door closing with a small click.

A few hours later, when Steve's gone through half the cookies and is laying on the couch in a cookie-coma, he hears Eddie exit his room. After a minute of shuffling around the kitchen, he disappears again. When Steve gets up to wash his dishes, he notices three things.

1. Eddie left the milk out

2. Eddie took two cookies

3. Eddie stuck a note on the fridge

Thank you, very yummy :) - E

Steve blushes and takes the note with him when he goes to bed.

[eyesofshinigami]

Eddie and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Rating: T

CW: None

Tags: Established relationship, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, very very mild sexual content (blink and miss it)

Prompt: For @lihhelsing "Love is helping them unwind after a rough day"

WC: 852

Written for @steddielovemonth Day 19

Eddie knew it was going to be a bad day as soon as he woke up. He managed to stub his toe twice on the way to the shower. His waffles got burnt in the toaster and they were out of syrup. He missed the bus by a minute, watching it drive away from the stop just as he ran up to it. It started raining while he was waiting for the next bus, so of course he got drenched.

He hoped that it had ended there, but no. Eddie got to work fifteen minutes late due to a traffic jam, wet and hungry and already done with today. His boss yelled at him and put him on tape-sorting duty, marking down the new shipment of tapes. Of course, halfway through, his pen exploded and covered him and the sheet he was using, so he had to start over.

By the time the end of his shift had rolled around, Eddie was tired, had a headache the size of Montana, and he was ready to throw himself into the void. Mack, the other guy on shift, patted him on the back and all it did was make his skin crawl. 

The journey home wasn’t much better. The bus was late again, and Eddie couldn’t find a seat so he had to stand. The bottom of his sneaker apparently acquired a random hole and he had to walk back to their apartment with wet socks.

Eddie was done. He was so fucking done that all he wanted to do was crawl into the bed and cry until he couldn’t anymore. He also hoped that Steve wasn’t home yet from work; he was scared that something bad would happen, like they would end up arguing or not speaking to each other.

What Eddie didn’t expect was to come home to a house that smelled a little like heaven. It was warm and he called out, “Steve? That you?” 

“Yup! In the kitchen!”

Eddie toed off his shoes and stripped out of his still damp jacket and hung it up on the rack. He still felt really keyed up from the day he had, so he steeled himself against his own feelings and headed into the kitchen. 

Their table was set. A lasagna was cooling in the center, set on a potholder right next to a spray of daisies. Two beers were set beside their plates, still cold enough that condensation was gathering on the glass. 

Steve himself is dressed in comfortable clothes, bent over the oven and pulling out what looked like cheesy garlic bread. Fuck, if it wasn’t all of Eddie’s favorite things wrapped up in one beautiful little scene. “Hey! I must have timed it just right!”

Eddie felt tears starting to gather in his eyes. “How… how did you know?”

Steve set the garlic bread down on the stove and pulled off his oven mitts before he reached up to cup Eddie’s cheek. “I heard you this morning. And then Mack called me before you left, saying you’d had a pretty shit day. So… I got home a little early and wanted to surprise you with something good.”

Okay, yeah, Eddie was absolutely going to cry now. “For me?”

“Of course, baby. After dinner, I figured we could take a bath together and I could wash your hair? Then we could crawl into bed and watch that new Beetlejuice movie? I grabbed it on the way home.”

“Steve… that…” It sounded incredible. It was perfect. So why was Eddie blubbering like he’d just been told his dog died? 

But Steve, wonderful, beautiful Steve, seemed to just understand. “Because you deserve it. You had a bad day, and I just wanted to make it better. You’d do the same for me, have done it in the past. Let me take care of you, okay?” 

What else could Eddie do but nod?

Dinner was delicious, Eddie ate until he couldn’t anymore, realizing he’d forgotten to eat lunch in the midst of the rest of his terrible day. He listened to Steve talk about what he’d done that day, letting his boyfriend’s words wash over him. 

The bath was just as nice. Even if they were two grown men, they managed to squeeze themselves into their tiny tub. It was ridiculous, but it made Eddie laugh and he felt light for the first time since he’d woken up that morning. Steve had washed his hair, took his time rubbing conditioner through Eddie’s curls, and then it ended up with them wrapping hands around each other’s cock and Eddie panting into Steve’s mouth.

Fuck, but he loved this man so much. 

Loose from the bath and from his orgasm, Eddie crawled into bed with Steve and curled up as the movie started.

“Love you, Eds,” Steve murmured, kissing the top of his head. He grabbed the remote from the bedside table to fast forward through the previews.

Ed smiled into Steve’s collarbone. The day might have started pretty fucking awful, but Steve had turned it right around. Now, it felt like the best day ever.

[topsytervy]

No More Missions ~ Leon Kennedy

This came out very dialogue heavy and I don't really know how I feel about it. I had an idea, liked said idea, wrote said idea, and now I'm a little iffy on the turnout of said idea. I may end up deleting this later if I decide to try to rewrite it.

But I'm obsessed with Leon being a dad so this may lead to more dad Leon.

synopsis: you and Leon get into a fight about him still going on missions at his age.

word count: 2,869

warnings: dialogue heavy, a little all over the place (I feel), slight cussing, fighting just a smidge, grammar and spelling errors probably

~~~

Leon pulled into the driveway, sighing as he shut off his car and leaned his head against the headrest, closing his eyes. 

He hated fighting with you. He knew that every couple had their quarrels and you two were no different, but you hadn’t had one this bad since the beginning of your relationship 15 years ago.  

It started with him coming home from his latest mission earlier today. You were making dinner as he walked into the house, the kids launching from their places on the couch and running into his arms. 

“Hey my little munchkins! You two behave for momma?” he asked as he kneeled and gave both a bear hug, his mission immediately being pushed from his mind. 

He held back a wince as Maggie’s head fell against his shoulder a bit roughly, smiling down at his daughter. 

“I’m always good for momma, daddy.” She told him and he chuckled. 

“I’m sure you are, Mag-Pie. Keeping your brother in check?” 

She nodded as Evan narrowed his eyes. 

“She’s lying. She threw a tantrum when mom asked her to pick up her toys and bring her laundry to the hallway.” 

“Well, that doesn’t sound like you were being good now does it, Mags?” Leon frowned at his little girl. The youngest shifted her gaze to the floor as she shook her head.  

“Don’t worry, dad. I had her apologize to mom for being a brat over something small.” Evan beamed. 

“Evan,” both you and Leon warned before Leon took over, “thank you for doing that but don’t call your sister a brat. It’s rude.” 

The three of them spent a little more time catching up before your voice piped up. 

“Dinner will be ready in five. Go wash up.” 

Maggie and Evan made their way down the hall before Evan paused in the hallway, “I’m happy you made it back, dad.” 

Leon smiled as he stood up, “I’ll always come back.”  

Evan continued down the hall as Leon picked up his duffle bag, heading into the laundry room and dropping it there to deal with later before walking into the kitchen, his arms wrapping around you as you finished up dinner. 

“How’s my wife?” he asked as you turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Better now,” you responded as Leon placed a kiss to your head, your hands moving to his shoulders where you squeezed causing Leon to inhale sharply. 

You pulled away; eyebrows furrowed. “You alright?” 

“Yeah. My shoulder is just a little messed up right now but it’s okay. It was taken care of.” 

“Messed up how?” You questioned, your hand coming up to the collar of his shirt, but he took a step back. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. It’s done and over with.” 

“Was it dislocated and popped back into place?”  

Your hand came up again, but Leon gently grabbed it, “it’s fine now. Drop it, okay.” 

“No, it's not fine, Leon and I will not drop it. What happened to your shoulder?”  

Leon pursed his lips, looking to see if the kids were around before dropping his voice, “I didn’t dodge a knife fast enough and got stabbed but it's fine. The doctor said it didn’t go that deep and all I needed was some stitches. I’m good as new now.” 

“Leon,” you groaned, hands rubbing at your face, “when are you going to realize you can’t keep going on these missions?” 

“don’t start.” He grabbed an oven mitt and pulled the casserole out of the oven, placing it on the stove top to cool off as he shut off the oven. 

“You are 41 years old Leon. You cannot take a beating like you used to. You can't bounce back like you used to.” You started. 

Leon turned around to face you, “what are you saying? You want me to quit? Find some other job.” 

“I’m not saying that, Leon. I’m saying that surely you can talk to someone about not doing missions anymore. You could train and shape the next generation of agents.”  

Leon closed his eyes, “I can’t.” 

You swallowed hard, “why not Leon? Be selfish for once. Think about yourself and what you want for your family.”  

“I do this for my family. Every time I get a call to go on a mission, I think about you guys. I think about how gutted I would be if it was you guys in the area getting infected with these viruses. It always hurt me that these innocent people and families suffered but after I met you and became a father, that feeling intensified by a thousand because I can’t help but think what if it was any of you.” He told you. 

“Then do something about it, Leon. You won’t lose your skills, honey. If something were to happen, which it won’t, you’ll still be able to protect us.” You tried. 

Leon pinched the bridge of his nose, “Why is my job suddenly a problem? You knew when we got serious that my job was dangerous. You knew that it would take me away for weeks at a time. You didn’t care. Even when I asked you to marry me and said that I had no idea if my job would work out with a family, you said that it wasn’t important and if it happened, we would make it work.” 

“I didn’t expect you to be forty-fucking-one and still trying to be James Bond now did I? I figured by now you would’ve told them to either get someone else to do it or do it themselves.” You shot at him. 

“Well, I’m sorry for wanting to make sure that our kids don’t have to worry about the things I deal with in their future! You want our kids to have to have school drills for zombie attacks then fine! I’ll tell the government that I’m gone and to let the entire nation know about bioterrorism and to make sure to have kerosene and lighters at school so that way after the teachers shoot the zombies, they can light them on fire, so they don’t come back or evolve. After all, the kids have already seen their teachers shoot a dead person, might as well add to the trauma by finishing the job!” Leon shouted. 

“Oh my god, Leon! I’m not saying to let everyone know about it and to just throw in the towel! You’re not the only fucking agent out there taking care of these things and they didn’t stop recruiting agents for this after you so stop acting like it! You not going on missions is not going to set the entire nation ablaze!” 

Leon turned around, heading towards the front door, yanking his keys off the hook. 

“Where are you going?” you asked, slightly exasperated that your husband wasn’t seeing your point. 

“Out.” That was all he said before leaving. 

Leon found himself in the parking lot of the park that you guys tend to frequent.  

Before you two had the kids, Leon and you would walk the trail that went into the woods and after the kids came along, it was for the playground.  Leon had tried a couple of times to get Maggie and Evan to walk the trail but five minutes in there would be complaints of feet hurting so he surrendered that for now. 

He turned off the car and got out, locking the door and heading towards the trail. He needed to think.  

He couldn’t retire, well he could but not in good conscious. Plus, what would he do with himself when the kids were at school?  

Every time he got called for a mission, he didn’t want to go. Leon knew he was getting too old for this; his body told him that every day it seemed. But he did have a duty, whether he was forced into it or not. 

Before you, he did it for Sherry. And then you popped into his life, and he had someone else to fight for. Granted, he didn’t open up about Raccoon City and everything until three years after you guys got together. 

Leon doesn’t even remember what compelled him to tell you. He just had this feeling that you were the one for him, so he told you about the missions he’d been on despite them being secret. 

Then after you two got married and had Evan and Maggie, he had a family to protect from that fucked-up side of humanity. Not just his found family but his blood family too. 

Leon didn’t trust anyone else to protect them from that. He barely even trusted the baby monitors in the kids' rooms when they were babies, getting up every hour to check for himself that they were okay and there was nothing lurking in the bedroom. 

Could he really trust this next generation of agents to do what he does? 

But you had a point. 

He, along with Chris and Jill and them, were some of the best in their field. They had all been through hell over and over again, they should be able to say no. That they’re not doing these missions anymore. That they have people waiting at home for them and they’re not going to risk their necks anymore when there are younger rookies that can be trained to be as good as them and can become better than them. 

Leon could deal with training a bunch of rookies if it meant being at home with his family by five o’clock, maybe even earlier, and not leaving until he had to go to work.  

You were right and he felt awful for getting defensive instead of talking about it and seeing your side fully. 

Leon finally opened his car door and got out, shutting it as gently as he could before heading up to the front door, sticking his key in to unlock it -he always told you to lock it even if you knew he was coming home later- but the lock clicked before he could and the door opened, revealing his oldest standing in the doorway, looking upset. 

The yelling, Leon thought letting out a sigh, the kids have never heard us yell like that before, especially at each other. 

Leon opened his mouth to talk but Evan cut him off. “You made mom cry.” 

“You should be in bed Evan.” Leon said, grabbing the key from the lock. 

Evan ignored him, “I heard her while I was in bed. I couldn’t sleep. She finally stopped and when I came into the living room to ask her what was wrong, she was asleep. It's okay, dad. I covered her up and kissed her good night like you do.” 

It was true. If you fell asleep before Leon, which was often, he would cover you up and kiss you on your forehead before continuing whatever he was doing or climbing into bed himself. If you fell asleep on the couch while watching a movie, he’d move you to the bedroom but obviously Evan couldn’t do that at 8 years old. 

“Well, thank you Evan.” Leon stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him. 

He could make out your silhouette on the couch. 

“Why did you make mom cry? You never make her cry. Not sad tears.” Evan whispered, trying not to wake you. 

Leon bent down to take off his boots, “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Is it because you yelled at her? You never yell at each other. You tell me and Maggie that we shouldn’t yell at anyone, especially you and mom.” 

Leon took off one of his boots before looking at Evan, “It probably is and no you shouldn’t yell at anyone. It's not nice and it can be scary sometimes. I don’t like yelling at you kids or your mom but today it just slipped out. And I don’t like myself for it because I should never yell at anyone, especially your mom.” 

“You’re going to apologize, right?” Evan asked and Leon nodded. 

“Mhmm. Cause you always apologize when you do something mean to someone.” 

Evan wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck and Leon’s went around Evan. 

“I was scared I was gonna have to be mad at you for making mom upset,” Evan whispered, and Leon chuckled, pulling away. 

“You would’ve been right to be mad at me. Thank you for taking care of mom while I was gone but you need to go to bed now. You have school in the morning.” Leon kissed his forehead before sending Evan down the hall to his bedroom. 

Leon finished taking off his boots before quietly walking towards the couch where you were sleeping, crouching down next to you and brushing your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. 

He didn’t want to wake you, but he had to talk to you and make things right.  

“Sweetheart,” his voice was quiet as he ran a hand through your hair. 

You stirred awake, “Leon?” you mumbled, eyes trying to blink away the sleepiness. 

“Yeah, it's me. Can we talk?”  

You nodded, turning to look at him as his hand cane to stroke your cheek. He opened his mouth to talk but you spoke first. 

“I’m sorry, Leon. I know it's your job and I appreciate the fact that you do this for our kids' future. I love that you do it for our kids' future. It’s just-” you felt tears well in your eyes as your hand came up to hold his wrist, “it's hard for me to watch you come home every time beaten and battered. It's hard to watch you leave in the middle of the night, waking up the kids to tell them that you’re leaving so you can at least kiss and hug them goodbye and tell them you love them in case it’s the last time you get to do it. I thought it was hard back when we first started dating but then when we had Evan and Maggie, it was even harder cause I watched you force yourself to leave every time because you had too.” 

You sighed as you leaned into his touch, your thumb stroking his wrist as his stroked your cheek. “I remember when you finally told me about Raccoon City, I thought how screwed up it was that you were robbed of any sense of normalcy. All I ever wanted for you was some sense of normal. I guess when you spent your first day on the job doing what you do though, it is considered normal. I just want what's best for you.”  

Leon’s hand moved to grab yours, “I know baby and I know it's not easy on you or the kids. As much as I hate it, I still do it for you guys. I’m scared that no one's going to be able to take care of this stuff like any of us do and I'd rather do it myself to make sure it gets done than risk that it doesn’t get taken care of. But you’re right. There’s no reason why we can’t be training these people instead of being out in the field.” 

You sat up as Leon smiled, “they owe me this much don’t you think. Not just me. All of us. I’m going to go in to work tomorrow just to talk to the big guns about this and then I think we should take a nice family vacation.” 

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “you don’t have to- “ 

“No. I want to. I’ve been doing this for twenty years and even though I’m not going to be in the action, I’ll still be contributing to the government and the safety of the world.” 

You let out a giggle, “you sound like a superhero giving a speech,” you noted, and Leon scooped you up, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Guess that makes you the lucky lady that gets saved by the superhero.” He teased as he headed down the hallway to your bedroom. 

you rolled your eyes, “Mhmm. My hero,” your lips twitched at the corner, “your plate is in the microwave by the way. Didn’t want to put it in the fridge cause I figured you'd be back.” 

Leon placed you on the bed, pulling the covers over your body before pressing a kiss to your forehead, each cheek, and then your lips once more. “I’ll always come back. You go to sleep, and I'll be in bed in a few.”  

You just nodded, watching Leon leave the bedroom as you started to close your eyes again. 

Leon closed the door halfway before heading into Maggie's room, walking over and pressing a goodnight kiss to her forehead as he readjusted her blankets. He left her bedroom, peeking into Evan's room to make sure everything was okay before continuing to the kitchen.  

As Leon reheated his food, he sent a text to his boss. 

Need to talk to you asap. Tomorrow morning at 9. I'll be in your office. 

If he couldn’t get out until he was dead or retired, then he was going to at least work for the government on his terms. 

~~~

[sunflowergirl522]

New Watch

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Spiderperson!Reader

Summary: Hobie goes to your universe instead of his own after quitting.

Word Count: 1201

No use of Y/N and I didn’t really write his accent in all that much. There’ll probably be another part of how they met and readers whole backstory. Thinking it’ll be a miniseries because I love the spiderperson I created.

“Just for the record, I quit.” Hobie types in all too familiar numbers before backing into the portal and tossing his watch.

You’re in the middle of pouring water into the pan below the bread in the oven when the familiar sound of a portal opening in your living room greets your ears. A smile crosses your face as the heavy footsteps from your favorite Spider-Man variant make their way into the kitchen. You continue humming to yourself as you close the oven and remove your mitts and the steps stop meaning he’s probably leaning against the doorway instead of coming any farther in.

“Hey Hobie.” You turn around and focus your bright smile at him. He smiles at seeing the state you’re in, taking in your apron on top of your brown cami and floral print skirt and the flour smeared on your face. It only fades when he spots the bruise on your cheek from earlier that morning.

“What happened ‘ere, Turtle dove?” He crosses the room and cradles your face tilting it up so he can get a better look while softly brushing it with his thumb. 

“It’s nothing, really. Just had a run in with Man-wolf this morning, I got a gnarly slash in my side too which finally stopped bleeding a couple hours ago.” Hobie huffs out his displeasure, as much as your universe is the prettiest he’s seen, you sure have some of the more monstrous villains. Your hand holds onto the one caressing the bruise and you turn to place a kiss on his palm. “I’m okay though. How’s everything at the society?”

“I quit.” He shrugs like it isn’t a big deal before walking past you and starting to go through your junk drawer. “Where’d you put that da-” He gets cut off as he glitches.

“Jesus Christ Hobie, you got rid of your watch?!” You rip the apron off before rushing off to your bedroom in a panic. “You shouldn’t have come here without it, you know how dangerous this cell decay stuff is. You should’ve gone back to your own universe instead.” You pull out the day pass he stole and stashed here about a month ago from your bedside table while you go on about how dangerous it is that he came here instead of going home.

“Had to come see you, fill you in.” Hobie comes up behind you plucking it from your hands and sliding it on. “Besides, knew you had one o’ these lying around.”

“Hobie this is serious, you gotta go home.” You go to open up a portal to send him home when he snatches your own watch from your wrist.

“Nah.” His hands go into his vest pockets before he turns and heads back towards your kitchen.

“Nah?” You follow shortly after finding him sitting at your kitchen island. His chaos of changing colors clashes with the pastel surroundings of your cottage and it was almost jarring to see the first few times but has since become one of your favorite sights. “What do you mean ‘nah’?”

“Pix, as cute as you are when you’re mother henning me, you should stop and come sit with me while I explain.” He dangles your chunky green sweater in one hand while his other pulls out bits and bobs from his pockets.

“Fine.” You sigh while grabbing the sweater and folding your wings against your back from where they spread out in your worry. 

“Remember that kid Miles I told you Gwendy talks about?” He starts as you sit down next to him. You hum your confirmation because while you still haven’t met Gwen he’s brought up her mentioning Miles a few times. As he continues catching you up on Spot and Miles following Gwen through a portal into Pav’s dimension he works on putting all the bits and bobs together. Once he has the screen together you realize what he’s making.

“Woah, hold on. Are you making your own watch?” You interrupt his story just as he’s getting ready to tell you about how Miguel just about lost his mind and snag the work in progress out of his hand.

“Ay, been nicking parts for it for a while now.” He leans on the counter watching as you turn what he has together around in your hands, studying it.

“Babe, this is cool and all but why wouldn’t you just hack into your old watch and take the tracker out of it?” He’s about to respond when you eye the small spikes in front of him. “Oh, I see. You just wanna make it punk rock to fit your whole vibe.” He rolls his eyes and takes it from your hands. 

“It’s the principle of the thing. Why continue to use something given to me when I can stick it to the man and make my own?” He looks back over to find you nodding because you get it. “When’s your bread supposed to be done?”

“Probably soon.” You hum and turn your head to look at the oven timer over your shoulder. “You care if I start cleaning my mess while you work?” 

“Better get on with it love.” You smile and kiss his cheek before getting up. 

The two of you work in silence for a while. With you cleaning and taking the bread out of the oven when it went off and him putting together the watch. Every so often he’d fiddle with your spider society watch to make sure he’s putting it together properly. Each time you passed by him you’d either give his shoulder or arm a squeeze or place a kiss wherever you could reach, his cheek, his shoulder, his head, sometimes he’d turn his head so you could get his lips. By the time dishes are done and your countertops are all clean the bread’s cooled down and his watch is complete.

“So if it’s done what’s with all the extra pieces?” 

“Gonna drop this one off for Gwen for if it don’t work out then come back and make my own.” He stands and puts in Earth 65 for the destination. “I’ll be in and out, back in five minutes tops.”

“Alright, you might as well take my watch apart and make me one when you get back. Miguel already doesn’t care much for me and the feelings pretty mutual. And I don’t wanna be a part of his little club if I’ll be stuck going on missions with Ben.” You cringe at the idea of having to go on another mission with him. The last couple of times you’ve been forced to have been borderline torture.

“Have I told you I love ya’ lately?” His arm drapes around your shoulder and he leans down to be nose to nose with you.“Hmm, you may be lacking there.” You can’t help but tease him to see the smile he always gets on his face when you do. “I love you too. Go drop the watch off and when you come back I’ll make dinner while you work.” “See you in a minute, love.” He gives you a kiss before opening up a portal and stepping backwards through it.

Marvel Taglist: @lieswithoutfairytales @sugarbutterbailey @1-800-ch3rry @neenieweenie @fluffy-bnny @bunnyweasley23 @chaoticevilbakugo @trikigirl271 @chxosunbound @bigpoppajes @alienoutlet @mazerunnerrose @20fandomfangirl @goldylions @literally-a-ferret @angelgirl45367 @supraveng

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[dragonmuse]

doublewindsor came in close third on the trivia question (gonna have to think of even tougher ones next time!)  and asked ‘Can I get Lucius trying to cook something for Izzy? Maybe as a surprise? The successfulness of his attempt is up to you, but I’m having flashes of Izzy getting a phone alert that his fire alarm has gone off.   For food burning, you’ll need Eddy and Stede. Lucius has a different issue.

Letting himself in had been the easiest part of the plan. Lucius had his key and Izzy was stuck in court this afternoon. All the better to come home and eat something he hadn’t made for once. The recipe was one of John’s, so it was very generous with cheese which Lucius was never going to complain about and he figured Izzy would be happy enough with. 

If the man ever became lactose-intolerant, Lucius would reach new levels of atheism. 

It was fairly foolproof and he’d been cooking alongside Izzy for a few months. Maybe his dicing was rough and he didn’t add the perfect amount of salt and pepper, but over all, the tomato and ravioli looked good as he sprinkled the panko mixture over it and stuck it in the oven. He’d even checked that the pan was oven safe, which he’d only recalled at the last minute. 

He was so close to the finish line. Setting the timer, he stayed in the kitchen, not daring to get distracted by reading. Instead, he checked his email and texted an update to Pete, relieved to get a thumb’s up when he sent a picture of it in the oven.

This was fine. He was an adult and he had kept himself fed before Pete, let alone Izzy. It was possible Izzy would be a critical dick about it, but that said more about him than it did about Lucius. Probably. 

When the timer got into seconds, he pulled on the oven mitt. It beeped and he dutifully pulled the pan out to set it on top of the stove. It smelled good! Ha! Take that tomato paste, you’re food now!  

Izzy texted to say he’d be home soon. Perfect. Lucius ditched the mitt, got out the bread Izzy bought for toast. He figured that would have to be good enough for garlic bread. Some butter and garlic powder should turn any carb into a good carb, he figured, and put it on a tray into the oven to toast. 

The pan handle was sticking out some and that was probably a hazard, he grabbed it to move it. 

A very strangled scream made it out of his throat, startling Sweeney from his perch. Lucius let go of the still very hot pan with a cathartic, 

“Fuck!” 

On pure instinct, he stuck his throbbing hand under the faucet. Some distant memory made him set it to luke warm instead of cold. He watched as his skin turned an angry red and his nerve endings reported in damage like planes going down in the Andes. 

“I got it,” he gritted out. “Stupid! Fuck.” 

He was still standing there with his hand under the water when Izzy came in the door. Lucius considered trying to fake his way through the situation, but his hand was killing him and he might actually need some help. Annoying. 

“Hey, pup,” Izzy greeted, stopping to take off his shoes. “...you made dinner?” 

“I did,” he agreed. “Pasta bake, garlic bread and broiled myself.” 

“What happened?” Izzy’s head flew up, taking in the scene. 

“I forgot the handle was still hot.” He braced himself for a scolding. Izzy was very big on kitchen safety which was kind of hilarious coming from a guy who sometimes used a knife to emphasize his arguments while he cooked. 

“Shit, let me see.” Izzy came into the kitchen and held out his hand. Lucius turned off the water and presented it to him. “Yeah, you got yourself good. It’ll sting like a bitch for a few hours. I’ve got burn cream though, that should help. Stay here.” 

“Kay,” Lucius watched as Izzy went into the bathroom and came back out with a tube of cream and what looked like an ace bandage. “You just have this stuff lying around?” 

“You don’t?” Izzy took Lucius’ hand in his own and started dabbing cream on the burned spots. 

“No? I think we’ve got a box of bandaids next to some neosporin maybe.” 

Izzy shook his head, dabbing on a little more cream, “I’ll send you a link. Get a basic kit. Try not to let anything expire.” 

“Yeah, okay.” It was hard to argue with the results of that at the moment. “Court go okay?” 

“No idea, they didn’t get around to me,” Izzy grumbled. “I have to go back tomorrow.” 

“Fun.” 

Izzy unwound the bandage which looked more gauze-like up close. 

“What’s the dinner for anyway?” 

“Thought it’d be nice? It’s one of those things. Make someone food they’ll like when they have a hard day.” 

“You don’t have to do that for me. Cooking is fine.”

“I know,” Lucius smiled at him, despite the pain, “I don’t really have to do anything. That’s what makes it nice. Sometimes I am just a nice person.” 

“Mm, you are?” Izzy wound the gauze lightly around the wound. It felt a little better just not being exposed. 

“I’m extremely nice,” Lucius contended. “So nice. Just not to you usually.” 

“I want names and numbers so I can fact check.” 

“Fuck you,” Lucius laughed. “It’s a confidential service.” 

“Oh, so not nice, just easy.” 

“I’m going to kick you in the dick and go eat this pasta by myself,” Lucius said tartly. 

“Very nice of you.” 

They wound up eating it together out of the pan over the stove . It was a little awkward to use his left hand, but the food came out okay at least. The garlic bread had gotten a little over toasted with the burn adventure, but it was kind of good crispy anyway. 

“So?” Lucius challenged. 

“It’s good,” Izzy chewed through another bite. 

“...that’s it?” 

“Yeah? What? You want a Michelin Star?” 

“No, I just thought you might have some...constructive criticism.” 

“Nah. Rude to insult the cook.” 

“That’s a thing you care about now?” 

“Pup, I feed you three times a week easy and the only complaint you’ve ever had is that there isn’t enough or the one time I didn’t cook the chicken for long enough and it was fucking raw.” 

“Yeah, that was a turn off,” Lucius nodded. 

“So why would I do any different to you?” 

“Why indeed?” Lucius said solemnly and very quietly did an inward dance of joy. That was very much a win. 

Having eaten themselves into a bit of food coma, they parked in front of the television for a while, some black and white film parading past them. Lucius was distracted by the pain in his hand, getting up to take some tylenol. It did start to ebb after that though he had a feeling it would be tender for longer. 

As the credits rolled, he turned to give Izzy a speculative look.

“What?” Izzy narrowed his eyes at him. 

“You know, I’m one handed right now.” 

“Your fingers still work.” 

“Iz. Work with me here. I’m down my dominant hand. And I might need some assistance.” 

“Yeah, I can-” Izzy started then stopped, penny dropping. 

“Want to?” 

“Yes, pup,” he reached for the remote, turning off the television and plunging them into darkness. 

His hand still hurt in the morning, but Lucius managed to make them both breakfast anyway. Izzy certainly wasn’t getting up to do it.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s15e10 the heroes' journey (w. andrew dabb)

clair de lune during an action sequence, not the most original but still a good one. monster death match making me think of altered carbon (mentioned matt frewer in the role that ran the monsters-but-actually-modified-people cage matches, no less, when he was in spn) and dude in thick glasses at the match in shadow making me think of blade runner

s15e10 / altered carbon s1e6 / blade runner (1982)

samuel. oven mitts, pot holders, a towel. literally, anything. and 2019 best pie magazine winner on that "delicious pies" magazine

feel like we're reliving bad day at black rock

SAM That’s the card Charlie hacked for us, the one – DEAN Yeah, the one that’s supposed to be our “no more hustling, always working” Golden Ticket.

(cheap) answer to the long standing question of what they've been doing for money, but okay

always thought garth's role was gonna be bigger, just because i saw him mentioned in fandom periodically. only in 6 episodes though. (imagine eileen is around the same number?)

DEAN You know, I gotta say, aside from pincushion in there… this is pretty nice. GARTH Yeah, better than I ever thought I’d get. I mean, hunting – I figured I’d be dead before I’m 40. You know, go out young and pretty. But now I’ve got a great wife, great kids. I guess...sometimes things work out. DEAN Yeah, sometimes. Good, man. You deserve it. You do.

sometimes things work out, just not for our guys

hijinks with sam drinking a cayenne cure-all and dean being forced to accept dental work from garth sure is something. bit more like old school spn humor that i didn't mesh with. but jackles sure loves to ham it up.

...ok. that felt like it lasted forever. it was fine but this episode is ... something. was letting jackles dance on the bucket list and this was the best thing they could think of? or was the extended dancing just part of dabb's ✨vision✨

SAM What do you mean? GARTH I mean, apparently Dean’s never been to a dentist before, and suddenly he got a mouthful of cavities, you’re sick, and your car is broken down. Who did you guys piss off? SAM God.

that was cute

GARTH Oh, no, no, no. I want to be the guest star. Being the hero sucks. I mean, sure, you’ll probably win eventually, but until you do, your life blows. Your parents get gunned down in an alleyway. Your home planet gets blown up. You, uh, interview this good-looking rich guy, and it doesn’t go well, so he shows up at the hardware store where you work, and, man, it starts to get, you know... BESS It’s from, uh – We love “Fifty Shades.” GARTH Yeah, we do. SAM Who's the hero in that?

come now, sam

GARTH Exactly. See, the hero never sweats the small stuff. It slows down the story. SAM So, then, what happened? Chuck...downgraded us? GARTH Maybe, yeah. And now you’re – DEAN [muffled] Cursed. GARTH No – normal. For the first time in your lives, you’re having normal-people problems.

getting very meta and feeling clever again i see

SAM So help us. Please. BRAD Wow. I mean, wow. With the furrowed brow and the puppy eyes – did you see that? That never actually works for you, does it?

uh huh. and the meta shade again

DEAN Hey, look, just because God yanked the magic horseshoe out of our ass or whatever doesn’t mean that we’re gonna give up. This is our job. It’s what we do. And, yeah, it might be a little harder right now, but so what?

could very much do without an extended scene of dean getting sick.

ok....

LOL this is a new variation of the mushy music theme. i just laughed. and the speech sounds like it was cribbed from a bad action movie. but guess sammy was with it

this slapstick fight with the big vamp in the parking lot... also something.

DEAN This Cass keeps looking at me weird. SAM So kind of like the real Cass.

sam cracking himself up. this is an excellent face from the baby

that was a nice goodbye to garth at the end, at least. i think they've used werewolves in london before right? ok yes, 10x04 (oh god the crooked sunglasses on jared during their "we time" but also a season's worth of clear communication between sam and dean)

GARTH Not sure. The guy who told me said it was in Alaska, on the road between Barrow and Kotzebue. He said, “You’ll know it when you see it,” whatever that means.

sure hope they plan on flying because that's a long ass drive, even by their standards. and utqiagvik (formerly barrow) is literally the northern most city in alaska/the us. at one point there was a chance my dad could take a job in deadhorse alaska when i was a kid (but we ended up in phoenix instead) which is also extremely far north

that sure was an episode. not my kind of episode, but it didn't make me extremely irritated like the previous ep so i guess i'll take the win

ok well being the still on the wiki made me smile, love me some babies and looks like both sams were having a good time

When Dean gives Sam his speech about the two of them kicking ass in the fight, a slightly off-key version of the track "Americana" (also known as "Dean's Family Dedication Theme") plays behind his words.

who calls it that??? should they add that i call it the spn mushy music theme :P in the 15x03 wiki entry, they alternately call it "Winchester Family Theme"

[meadowmines]

OC-Tober/Tojoctober Day 4: Claws

[Hopping over to the Tojoctober list today because fuck it, Aoyagi can have some cat cafe shenanigans as a treat]

---

This is what you call a "soft open" in the business. The Neko-Kai Cafe is not yet open to the general public and won't be until Saturday, but tonight Aoyagi has opened the doors just for friends and family. He uses that term loosely and tries not to think too much about what the latter half of it used to mean.

New town. New cafe. New name. New everything. It's a lot to not think about.

He spends most of the evening in the kitchen, mixing and kneading and churning out piles of baked goods. Paw print cookies, kitty-shaped anpan, scones in both sweet and savory varieties. Nothing sticky or messy, nothing that requires utensils. Coffee, too. The barista thing is not his strongest suit but he can pull an espresso and make a passable latte art paw print. (he will have an actual barista who knows what the hell he's doing when the place opens for real, but tonight it's just him running the show.)

The cats are handling themselves fine, too. Some of them were a little skittish about all these strangers in their home at first, and Shio and Kosho are still kind of huddled up at the top of the cat tree staring down at the guests and other cats like they're wondering what the hell they've gotten into. Not Miyuki, though. She took a little nudging, because she's deaf as a post and didn't know there were people here to see her. But now Aoyagi watches her work the room like she's been doing this her whole kitty life and wonders yet again: what kind of monster would dump a sweet kitty like this at the pound in the dead of night?

(rest assured that about three years from now Aoyagi will find out exactly what kind of monster would do that, and that monster will absolutely get what's coming to him)

He's putting a fresh batch of biscotti in the oven when he hears someone yelp in the main room. Ah, shit. "Everything okay?" he calls over his shoulder.

"Uh, yeah--" That sounds like Chiba, and he sounds uncomfortable, and at least two other people are laughing hysterically. "Yeah, I just--yow! Easy there, sweetheart! Here, lemme just--no, honey, no, just--hey, Amano? Little help here? Please!? Miyuki-chan's got a--"

However Chiba finishes that sentence, it's drowned out by the siren song of a very happy cat that can't hear herself, followed by even more laughter, which gives Aoyagi time to remember that oh, right, he's Amano.

"The hell ya doin' to my number one girl, Chiba-han?" Aoyagi shucks off his oven mitts and heads into the main room. "Am I gonna have to bounce ya?"

"Looks like Chiba's got a new girlfriend," Sugihara snickers.

"Well, the girls at the club are all going to be glad to hear that," Shiori needles. She has plenty of room to needle. She's a hostess at one of Chiba's regular haunts, after all.

At first glance, everything seems fine. Miyuki is snuggled up in Chiba's lap purring like a muscle car's engine, majestically fluffy head leaning against his chest, lovingly gazing up at him with those big sparkly blue eyes, enthusiastically kneading his thigh. But then her little paw clenches tight and Chiba grits his teeth and makes a weirdly high-pitched noise.

"She-she's fine," Chiba laughs nervously, sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "It's just--she's kinda perforatin' my leg here n'--ow! Honey, I'm beggin' ya, lemme--she's just gettin' awful close to my two best friends, is all!"

"What!?" Shit. He checked before he opened. He knows he did. He... thought he did? "Hang on--" Aoyagi ducks into the cats' "dressing room" and grabs the nail clippers. "Sorry, sorry, I thought I disarmed all the murder mittens this afternoon--c'mere, Miyuki-chan."

"MEEEEEEEEEHHH?" Miyuki hollers cheerfully as Aoyagi unhooks her paw from Chiba's pants leg. Chiba just heaves a deep sigh of relief.

Miyuki takes this like a pro too, lets Aoyagi sit her down in his lap and check her paws until he finds the concealed weapon, doesn't even squirm when he nips the razor-sharp tip off it. He reaches over, snags a cat treat off Sugihara's tray, and feeds it to his number one girl. "Awright, back to work with ya," he says, giving her a scritch behind the ears before she hops right over the table and back into Chiba's lap.

"Yeah, that's more like it," Chiba says, feeding her another treat off his own tray. "Not that I ain't thought about gettin' the snip, but that wasn't how I planned on doin' it."

[tobesolonely]

apartment 41

hi y’all! this is my very VERY late submission for @meetmeinfleetwood​ ‘s “To Lovers” challenge (thank u miss sadie for even still accepting this LOL) but here is some good ol fashioned strangers to lovers with the line, “will you stay the night?” . :D enjoy everyone!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, smut :)

word count: ~5.2k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

There were many things you loved about living on your own. You loved that your apartment was always clean. You loved that at the end of a long day, you could come back and brood in peace. You loved walking around in nothing but your underwear without the fear of anyone seeing you. You did things when you wanted, how you wanted. As a self-proclaimed introvert, there was nothing you loved more than living by yourself.

However, during slightly inconvenient moments like these, you wished you had someone else in the apartment with you.

You swore you’d been trying to get your favorite jar of pasta sauce open for at least the past ten minutes. It had been a long day at work, and at the moment all you wanted to do was heat the entire jar of sauce, boil a bunch of pasta, and call it a night. You were growing beyond frustrated–– you even contemplated just breaking the jar open. Ultimately, you decided against it lest you be met with a mouthful of glass.

Feeling defeated, you pick up your phone in frustration and hurriedly punch in your father’s number. The phone rings twice before he answers. “Hello? What’s up, hun?”

“Dad, what should I do if I can’t get this jar open? Like, it’s seriously glued shut,” you set it down on the counter probably a little too hard considering it was a glass jar. “I’m so hungry.”

“Did you try running it under hot water?”

You did.

“Hm. Try getting a good grip on it with a dish towel or something?”

Of course, you did.

“Well, I’m not driving over there just to open a jar for you,” your dad pauses. “You have neighbors, don’t you? Why don’t you knock on one of their doors?”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“No weirder than asking to borrow a cup of sugar.”

You thank your dad for the suggestion and hang up with him shortly after. He was right. You just needed someone to quickly open the jar for you and then you’d be back in your apartment, secluded from society until the next morning when you went into work. Besides, you’d been in your apartment for roughly three months now and you didn’t have a relationship with any of your neighbors. You figured now was as good a time as any to at least meet the person who lived directly across from you.

You slide on your slippers and clear the few steps it takes to reach your neighbor’s door. A faded ‘41’ was on their door, and a cheeky mat that read, ‘Did you call first?’ was at your feet.

You tried racking your brain for any memory of what your neighbor may look like, but you were drawing a blank. You were more to yourself than you initially thought you were and made a silent vow to become more social from this point on. You situate the jar of pasta sauce under your arm before placing two firm knocks against the door. Moments later, the door is flung open and you’re met with the smell of something delicious cooking, and a handsome, tall man donning a dirty apron.

“Hi, is everything alright?” he has a concerned look on his face as he looks over the top of your head and into your apartment.

“I— This is a little embarrassing,” you mumble, feeling your body grow warm. “I live by myself and I’ve been trying to get this jar of pasta sauce open for at least twenty minutes and I can’t. Do you think you can?”

His mouth slowly turns upwards into a smile before finally nodding, reaching out his hand to grab the jar of pasta sauce from you. “It’s pasta night at your place too, hmm?” His tongue is poked out of the corner of his mouth as he focuses on the task at hand.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m just gonna heat up the entire jar of sauce, boil some spaghetti noodles, and call it a night.”

The pop! of the jar causes you to jump slightly. “That doesn’t sound like very good pasta.”

You retrieve the pasta sauce from him, quietly thanking him. “It gets the job done.”

Your neighbor hums in agreement. “‘M sure it does. If you ever wanna taste some really good pasta though, y’know where I’ll be.”

“I do,” you nod. “Well, thank you again. I’ll let you go back to making your pasta sauce that is just way better than mine.”

He lets out a loud laugh. “I appreciate it. It wasn’t any problem at all, I’m here most evenings if you ever need help opening anything else, uh…” He trails off.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N. Beautiful name. I’m Harry, by the way.”

You look down at the dirty hallway carpet, a wide smile on your face. “Thank you, Harry. It was nice to finally meet you, by the way.”

“You too. Have a good night.”

You give him one more smile before turning on your heels and walking back inside your apartment, gently shutting the door. You quickly look out the peephole and catch him just as he’s closing his door, a dimpled-grin on his face.

It was Friday night when you finally got the chance to speak with him again. You were sitting on your kitchen stool nursing a glass of wine and waiting for your frozen pizza to heat in the oven when you heard someone coming down the hallway. As you had been doing all week since your interaction with Harry, you set your glass of wine down and shuffle over to your peephole, eyes scanning the small amount of hallway that was visible.

Harry comes into view seconds later, four overflowing bags of groceries precariously balanced along the length of his arms.

“Fuck.” You hear him mutter to himself. He attempts to reach in his pocket for his keys but once he realizes he can’t do so without setting at least one bag of groceries down, he lets out a loud huff in what you assume to be annoyance. You scuttle to your shoe rack and slip your shoes on before quickly flinging your door open.

“Hi! Need help?”

Harry jumps and you both watch as the contents of the bag he was getting ready to set down spill at his feet. “Now I do,” he’s already picking his groceries off the floor. “You scared the shit out of me. Also, were you watching me?”

Your face grows warm. “I heard someone coming down the hallway so I wanted to see who it was.”

“Oh, really?” Harry questions, pausing to look up at you. “You came out of your place so quickly, felt like I was bein’ watched or something.”

You know he’s teasing you but you can’t help but feel a little embarrassed that he caught onto what you were doing so quickly. Instead of dignifying his statement with an answer, you bend down and begin helping him pick up his spilled groceries. His hand grazes yours lightly as you both reach for a can of black beans, now slightly dented. It lingers for a moment before he retracts it to retrieve a different item. A quick, side-eyed glance reveals that his cheeks are tinged red.

“What are you making for dinner?” You ask him, standing up and dusting off the knees of your leggings.

“Uh, veggie chili. S’one of my favorites–– hey, is something burning?”

Your eyes widen and you abruptly turn away from Harry without so much as a goodbye, hurrying toward your kitchen that was starting to grow foggy from smoke produced by your oven. You were so preoccupied with helping Harry gather up his spilled groceries that you had totally forgotten you had a frozen pizza in the oven and if the smell was any indication of its current state, it was most likely inedible at this point.

Reaching for the oven mitt you kept next to the knives on the counter, you open the oven and fan the smoke out of your face, holding back a gag from the burnt smell. Your fire alarm immediately goes off once you open the oven and Harry appears a second later, a concerned look on his face. He looks around for your smoke detector and once he sees it he stands on his tiptoes to turn it off. You set your now blackened pizza on top of the oven and turn on the microwave fan. Harry’s already opening windows around your apartment, fanning the air with a throw pillow from your couch.

“Thanks,” you mumble, a wave of embarrassment washing over your body. You feared that Harry probably thought you were the most incompetent person on this planet–– first, you couldn’t get a jar open, and now here you are nearly setting your apartment on fire. “Guess I should’ve set a timer, huh?”

“Yeah, ‘spose you should’ve,” he replies. “It’s okay, though. ‘M about to get started on dinner, you can join me? If you’d like, that is. Maybe you’ll have a new recipe so you can stop eatin’ all this frozen shit.”

“Leave my frozen foods out of this,” you playfully scold him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Thank you for the invite though, that would be great, actually. I’m gonna get this cleaned up and then I’ll be right over?”

“Sounds good,” he neatly situates your pillow back on the couch. “I’ll see you in a bit, Y/N. Door will be unlocked.”

Once Harry’s gone, you move into action, quickly tossing the pizza into the trashcan before running to your bathroom. You try to remember if you brushed your teeth earlier that day but you can’t, so you brush them again just to be safe. You hastily examine yourself in the mirror before deciding you weren’t going to do anything more, not wanting to come off as trying too hard. You were almost one hundred percent certain Harry was just being neighborly–– nothing indicated that he found you attractive, so you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you found him to be the most stunning man you’ve ever seen in your life.

Locking your door, you clear the distance from your welcome mat to his in five steps flat, and take a deep breath before letting yourself in.

It didn’t take long for you to realize that Harry had more skill in the kitchen than an everyday home-chef did. He all but floated around the room, chopping with ease and finesse. The two of you had settled into a comfortable silence as he worked and you watched. Billy Joel played softly over his Bluetooth speaker, and he’d occasionally stop what he was doing to take a sip of his wine and look over his shoulder at you, almost as if he was checking if you were still there because you were being so quiet.

Your head was starting to grow fuzzy as you finished your third glass of wine that night, so you make the (responsible) decision to cut yourself off for the night. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“Course y’can,” he replies quietly, not stopping what he was doing. “Give me just a second and I’ll get ya––”

“Oh, I can get it myself. Just tell me where the cups are.”

Harry stops chopping and turns completely to face you, an amused look on his face. “You’re plastered, aren’t ya?”

“No? Why do you think that?”

Harry laughs. “You can’t hear yourself stumblin’ over your words, but I can. Jus’ stay right there and I’ll get your water. You want ice?”

“How do you know how to cook so well?”

“Culinary school,” he responds coolly. “Ice?”

You’re not sure if you are as drunk as Harry says you are, but you were currently finding the fact that Harry went to culinary school the coolest thing ever. “A chef? No way! What kind of chef?”

“I’m a Sous Chef. Gonna give ya a bit of ice.”

“I can’t believe I live across from a chef! No wonder you were giving me shit for eating canned pasta sauce,” you take the glass of water from Harry’s outstretched hand, thanking him. “Even your water tastes better than mine!”

“I think you’re just pissed, Y/N,” Harry responds, eyes crinkled from smiling. “Do y’like cooked carrots?” Your nose wrinkles in response to Harry’s question and he mutters something about how he’ll leave them out before turning back towards the stove to check on his food.

“How old are you, Harry?”

“Just turned twenty-seven. Yourself?”

“I’m twenty-four!” You exclaim, a little too excited. “Where are you from?”

He turns to look at you, eyebrow raised. “England. What gave it away?”

“Your accent.”

He hums, a small smirk on his lips. “Where are you from?”

“I’m from here. Just moved back home from my college town but didn’t wanna move back in with my parents, so here I am.”

“No roommates, you said?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’, taking a big gulp of water. “You don’t either, do you? I just realized I haven’t heard or seen anyone else since I’ve been here.”

“I do not. I had a roommate when I first moved in but he ended up gettin’ engaged and moving in with his fiancée, so it’s just me for now. I think I like livin’ on my own better, though.” You watch as Harry reaches into his cabinet and retrieves two bowls and starts spooning your dinner into them. He sets the bowl in front of you and hands you a spoon, nodding at you to try it.

You bring a spoonful up to your mouth, blowing a few times before shoving it into your mouth. Your eyes widen at the amazing flavor that fills your mouth, and your eyes diverge to his. “This is incredible!”

Harry looks down at his bowl of food, a shy grin on his face. “Thanks, Y/N. Glad you like it.” He grabs his glass of wine from behind him and moves around to the other side of the island to sit next to you.

“Are you a vegetarian?” You ask, mouth full.

“Somewhat. I’m a pescatarian,” he shovels a spoonful of the chili into his mouth. “More wine?”

“I better not,” you reply, mind still fuzzy from all you’ve drunk throughout the night. “This is seriously so good, Harry. You’re cute, you can cook, you’re nice… you’re like, a triple threat!”

“Callin’ me cute?”

“C’mon, you know you are,” you answer boldly. “I’m just stating the obvious.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” he takes a sip of wine. “You’re a pretty big looker yourself.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“You flirted with me first.”

“So what if I did?”

Harry lets out a quiet scoff, going back to eating his food. After a moment he says, “I wouldn’t mind.” You smile to yourself and continue eating, bringing the bowl up to your lips and tipping your head back so you could get every last drop of Harry’s veggie chili. He gets up to get another helping of food as you get up to place your bowl in the sink, lifting your sleeves to wash it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says as he brushes past you, going back to where he was previously seated. “I’ll clean up later. Do y’want some dessert?”

“I think I will take some more wine,” you grab the bottle from the center of the island along with your glass, pouring a generous amount. “This is good. Nothing like the cheap bottles I get from Target.”

“I’m glad you like it. Thought I’d pull this one out tonight, always pairs well with dishes like this…” He trails off. “Anyway, yeah. Glad y’like it.”

You and Harry finish off the bottle of wine no more than thirty minutes later, having by now situated yourselves on his couch. He turned something onto the television (you think it was Iron Chef), but neither one of you were paying any attention to it. Harry was asking about what you studied in college, how you like your current career and your favorite things to do in your free time. You were asking him about England, his family back home, and why he chose to go to culinary school.

He has a way about him that captivates you— just completely pulls you in— and you never want to stop listening to him speak. Harry leans close to you when you talk, almost as if you’re telling him a secret that he doesn’t want to miss out on.

“I think ‘m jus’ as drunk as you are now,” Harry whispers, letting out an adorable giggle. “Goin’ into work tomorrow is gonna be a proper pain.”

“No one told you to try and outdrink me!” You yell, tucking your knees under your bottom. “Now we’re both drunk, what good does that do?”

“Think it’s more fun this way, don’t you?” Harry lets out a little burp, his face flushing. “Wanna help me clean the kitchen?”

“What happened to cleaning it later?” You stand up from the couch, wobbling slightly before catching your balance.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d get drunk off our arses and sit here talkin’ til one in the mornin’, did you?” He stands up as well, his hand moving to rest on the small of your back as he scooches past you.

“There’s no way it’s that late,” you retort, checking the time on your phone. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to overextend my stay. I’ll help you clean this place up and then get going.”

Harry swats a hand in front of his face, shaking his head. “Overextend your stay? Of course y’didn’t, more than happy to have you here. Do you wanna wash or dry?”

“I’ll wash since I don’t know where anything goes.” You move to the sink and roll up your sleeves, moving the small number of dishes in the sink all to one side so you can fill the other side with water. Silence falls over you again as you clean the dishes from dinner and soon enough you’re done, drying your hands on your t-shirt.

“Thank you, Y/N. We make a good team, huh? Got that done quickly, didn’t we?” He folds the dishtowel in half neatly and hangs it over the handle of his oven.

“Yeah,” you yawn, slipping on your shoes that had been discarded earlier in the night by the door. “I’ll get out your hair and let you get to bed, then. Thank you for having me over and for cooking that delicious dinner, I enjoyed it. I owe you.”

“If it’s frozen food, don’t worry about it,” he jokes, moving to open the door for you. “If you want to cook me something, though…”

“How about I take you out for dinner? I stay out of the kitchen, and you’ll get something edible and halfway decent. A win-win?”

Harry laughs. “‘M lookin’ forward to it. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“I couldn’t decide between Italian or sushi but since you’re a pescetarian, I figured sushi was our best bet.”

Harry looks away from the menu and at you, clearing his throat before speaking. “That was really thoughtful. Surprised you remembered considering how loaded you were.”

“For the last time, I was not that drunk,” you defend yourself, gently kicking his calf from underneath the table. “By the end of the night, you had way more than me!”

“Maybe so,” he replies nonchalantly, looking back at the menu. “Let’s not forget who can handle their alcohol better, though.”

You let out an indignant hmph, and get to scouring the menu yourself. You didn’t eat sushi very often so you figured you’d probably just get whatever Harry got.

“Let’s do sake bombs.”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sake bombs? Are you tryin’ to get me drunk again?”

“They’re fun! Just one?”

Harry shakes his head at you and grins before waving over the waitress, asking her politely for two sake bombs. She comes back a few minutes later with the alcohol and chopsticks balanced precariously on a tray, setting them in front of you and Harry respectively.

The waitress stands back and says, “Ichi… ni… san… sake bomb!” The two of you pound the table until your shot glasses fall into the cup and then you throw your heads back, chugging down the cocktail. When you finally finish chugging your drink and look back up at Harry, he’s staring at his watch as if he’s been waiting for you to finish for ages.

“Oh, you’re finally done? I was startin’ to grow old,” he teases, taking a sip of his water. “Do you know what you wanna order?”

“You’re annoying,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “But I’m gonna get whatever you get.”

“Really? You don’t have any preferences?”

You shake your head. “I don’t eat sushi very often so I honestly don’t know what I should get. I’ll try anything, though.”

“You really did pick this place just for me, didn’t you?” He has a teasing tone to his voice, but his gaze has softened.

“I told you I owed you, didn’t I?”

At this, Harry just gives you a small smirk and signals the waitress over once again to order for the both of you. While you wait for your food to come, you fall into easy conversation with Harry again. It seems like you can talk about anything under the sun with him–– no topic was off-limits, and nothing was awkward. He had to have been one of the most interesting people you’ve ever met in your life. He was well-traveled, knew several languages, and loved to sing and write music in his spare time. Although you felt your own life was rather boring in comparison to his, he made you feel just as accomplished and interesting as he was.

“That was good,” he tells you after you’ve both finished eating, wiping his mouth with his napkin and slouching in his chair slightly. “Think ‘m gonna need to unbutton my pants here in a second.”

“Me too,” you answer with a laugh, making eye contact with the waitress. You mouth, ‘check, please’ and she nods, reappearing at your table with the check. As you’re digging in your purse to pull out your wallet, Harry reaches over and grabs the check before you can even look at it. He reaches in his pants pocket for his wallet and slides his card in before you’ve even looked back up.

“What are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Did you forget that I’m the one that owes you?” He shrugs.

“You can make it up to me another way. Don’t worry about it,” his voice is low and gravelly. The waitress comes back to collect the check from Harry and after he receives his receipt, he reaches into his wallet to place a cash tip for her on the table. “Ready to get home?”

Home. You know he only worded it that way because you live directly across from him, but you would like going “home home” with Harry, at least for tonight. There was no denying the sexual tension between the two of you was electric–– anyone who was paying attention to the two of you could probably sense it. You wordlessly nod and follow Harry out of the restaurant, intertwining your fingers with his when he holds his hand back for you to grab.

He stands on the curb and expertly hauls a cab, opening the door and gesturing your in ahead of him. Harry’s hand moves to rest on your leg as he makes small-talk with the taxi driver, asking him if he was having a busy night and how much longer he thought he’d be out for. Harry pays the cab fare and wishes the driver a good rest of his night before all but dragging you out of the taxi.

“What’s got you in such a rush?” You ask Harry, a teasing

“Oh? Did I misread the situation? I thought–– this is embarrassing, never mind…” his tight grip loosens on your hand but you pull him back into you, laughing at how adorable he was.

“Harry! I’m joking, I know what’s going on,” you rub your thumb across the top of his. “I was just messing with you.” You see him visibly let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t mess with me like that, Y/N!” You’re still standing outside of your apartment complex in the dark, as close to one another as you can be without completely melting into each other. He releases his hand from your tight grip and places it gently on your face instead. “Is it okay if I kiss you?”

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, standing on your toes. Harry cranes his neck to meet your lips and presses them to yours softly, pulling back only when the both of you are near gasping for air.

“Was that nice?” He asks, thumb caressing your face. Your noses are pressed together and you just nod, still too breathless to speak. “Maybe we can take this inside, then?”

Once inside Harry’s apartment, he nearly rips off the new shirt you bought specifically for your date with him, discarding it by his door.

“Careful with that,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I just got that today. Tag is still onnit.”

You feel Harry laugh into the side of your neck, walking your backward towards his couch. “I’ll cover the cost if it’s ruined then, how’s tha’?”

Harry sucks harshly on your neck, causing you to let out a low moan. “I guess that’s fine.”

“That’s fine?” Harry mocks you, guiding you onto the coach. You hum in agreement as you sink further down into the couch, letting out a sigh of bliss as he peppered kisses along your breast.

Your movements are needy— desperate. Neither one of you were trying to hide how badly you wanted to fuck the other. Harry smashing his lips onto yours once more, his breath warm and tongue salty from all the sushi he had earlier consumed. He attempts to pull his own shirt from his body while not breaking the kiss, and you let out a satisfied hum when he succeeds. Now you’re both shirtless and the only thing stopping you from fucking each other proper is being still fully clothed on your bottom halves.

“Can we get these off?” You ask, tugging at your own bottoms. Harry helps you pull down your tight jeans, struggling slightly to get them off your sweaty legs. Once your jeans are off your underwear follows immediately after, carelessly strewn around the room like the rest of your clothing.

“Y/N…” Harry hungrily takes the sight of your body in, eyes darkening with lust. “You might be the death of me, did ya know that?”

“I do now.”

He sucks on his index and middle fingers and lowers them down to your core, slipping them inside you with ease. You hadn’t realized how wet you were until Harry was knuckles deep, curling his fingers tantalizingly slow inside of you. “Do ya?”

You bite down hard on your lip, nodding at Harry’s rhetorical question. “Obviously.”

He flips the two of you over, so that you’re now straddling him and he’s laying below you. “Take what you want, then–– oh wait, condom?” You nod and move as Harry digs around in his pants, pulling out his wallet.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys that keeps a condom in their wallet.”

He rips it open with his teeth in one swift motion and unbuckles his pants, giving himself a couple of quick strokes before sliding it on. “What if I am? Was quick and effective, wasn’t it?” He rests his hands on your hips and pulls you back on top of him, connecting his lips with yours again. “Now you can take what you want.”

Your hands move up to grip Harry’s shoulders as you slowly sink onto him, wincing at the stretch and burn an unfamiliar partner sometimes brings. You make eye contact with Harry as you take a moment to adjust to his size, noting how his grip on your hips gets even tighter.

“S’big,” you mutter, rolling your hips slightly. Below you, Harry squeezes his eyes shut. “So big.”

“Tell me how badly you want it.”

“You already know. Don’t feel like being teased.”

Harry juts his hips up to meet you slamming down onto him, groaning out loudly from the pleasure the added motion brings. At one point he situates himself so he’s sitting straight up, using his left hand as a support for him to rest back on while his right hand is tweaking at your nipples. He’s letting out a slew of curse words, letting you know it felt just as good for him as it did for you.

“Ridin’ m’cock so good,” he says under his breath, bringing the hand that was playing with your nipples to rest in between your legs. Whenever you slam back onto him you feel him not only deep in the pit of your stomach but also on your clit, bringing you maximum pleasure. “Don’t be so quiet, let me know when ‘m makin’ you feel good, love.”

“I’m already close,” you admit, feeling a bit embarrassed at how it took Harry doing next to nothing to work an orgasm out of you. Well, not literally–– but it felt like it. “Feel s’good inside me, you’re so big.”

Harry lets out a low moan from your words, throwing his head back in pleasure. It hits the arm of his couch with a quiet thump but his pace doesn’t falter in the slightest. “You’re gonna make me cum if ya keep strokin’ my ego like that.”

“You asked for it,” you reply, changing your move from riding to grinding as you were starting to grow fatigued. “I’m close.” You remove your hands from his shoulders and let them roam the expanse of your body, wanting nothing more than to receive maximum pleasure.

“Can feel ya squeezin’ ‘round me,” Harry says, taking his lip in between his teeth. “Know you’re about to come, pet.”

"Harry..." you warn, your movements growing more desperate and sloppy. You weren't normally a selfish lover but your head was so clouded from pleasure, all you could think about at the moment was your release. Harry leans his head back on the couch again and now uses his two free hands to bring you to orgasm–– one is rubbing circles on your clit and the other one is gripping at your breasts as you use your last bit of strength to swivel your hips on him.

You're coming undone not ten seconds later, loudly moaning out the man's name who laid under you. You don't slow your movements, knowing he was right behind you.

"Y/N, fuck, 'm gonna come-" he lets out a low, guttural moan, coming immediately after announcing it.

The sounds of you trying to steady your breathing are the only sounds that fills the room as you both come down from your respective highs. Harry runs his hands along your bare body, eyes hooded from the orgasm that just wracked his body. As you’re beginning to uncurl yourself from Harry, he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Will you stay the night?”

You didn’t know what sleeping with Harry meant for your relationship going forward, but you were glad you knocked on Apartment 41. 

[ny-nymeria]

Rikugan: Electric and Exciting

AN: New Gojo x Reader story! Enjoy. <3

(6 years old, 20 years ago)

"Mama! Are these pastries ready!?"

The smell of golden faced pastries was the first thing you'd wake up to in the mornings. Face pressed against the oven door, your eyes fixate on the dough that your mother had prepared the night before.

"Could you put them on the shelf for me honey, I'm a little busy!" Your mother's voice echoed through the hallway of your home. Since your father was away on a business trip, your mother was solely responsible for the family's bakery. You puffed up your chest proudly, grabbing an empty tray from the counter. With your sword and shield — a pair of tongs and oven mitts— you leveled the tray to the open oven and gathered up all of the freshly baked pastries.

Closing the oven door with your foot you swiveled and walked delicately to the shelf display by the window. You brought the tray up to the level on the shelf most accessible to you, admiring each pastry as you placed them onto the display with care. You brought the last pastry from the tray over to the window and when you reached over to place it down, your eyes met a pair of bright blue eyes staring right at you outside of the window.

“Umm, hello? Can I help you?"

The eyes stared back for a bit then looked away, almost disappointed. The person turned and already began to leave. You hesitated at first, debating on whether or not to talk to the person. You walked out the door and saw a boy walking further away.

"Hey! D-do you want a pastry!?" You shouted. The boy stopped and turned to look at you; he looked slightly irritated with a scowl on his face.

"I don't have any money."

You grinned. "Wait here!" His eyes watched you intensely as if to decipher your motives. You ran back out and returned to him, clutching a wrapped package with your small hands.

"Here you go!" You gestured the boy to look at your hands, "take this!" you lifted your hands to the boy to show two freshly baked pastries clumsily wrapped wax paper, still warm from this mornings bake. The boy raised one of his eyebrows in skepticism.

"Why are you offering it to me?"

"Because you want one and I want to give you one!" You smiled brightly at the boy. He cautiously took the pastry from you, peering at it with great detail. You could've sworn his eyes swirled with interest, they were the most beautiful shades of blue you'd ever seen. Almost electric and exciting. You watched him as he hesitantly held it up to his face.

You giggled at him which threw him off. "If you think I'm trying to poison you, I'm not," your fingers gripped the edge of the pastry he held, tearing off a piece and placing it in your mouth with a grin. "See? Not poison."

The boy furrowed his brows for a moment then his expression relaxed. He took a bite of the pastry and his face instantly changed. He smiled.

"Its good right?" You nodded excitedly, "Mama's pastries are the best!"

The two of you sat on a nearby bench by your home. You watched the boy eagerly eat the pastry, then offered him the other since it appeared he had been hungry for awhile.

"So how come you're alone?" You asked. The boy was near the same age as you, maybe a little older. Upon further inspection you noticed the kimono he was wearing was formal, meaning it most have been expensive. It was orange with dragon flies printed on the fabric, making his already electric blue eyes stand out.

"I ran away from my family."

You noticed hints of sadness in his eyes rather than his words.

"I see..."

The boy took another bite of pastry,  "They just want to control whatever I do all of the time and I got sick of it."

"But you're a kid just like me!" You exclaimed. "Don't you want to play or eat pastries!?"

The boy frowned again. "I guess... I don't really know how to be a kid..."

You jumped off of the bench to face him, grabbing his hands with yours. "I'm a kid, so I can show you!" His face lit up, "R-Really?" This was the first time the boy ever encountered another child outside of his estate. He had snuck out right before breakfast and he knew his caregivers were looking for him.

"Yeah! You can always come here and visit me. We can eat pastries together!" The boy blushed since your words caught him off guard. "Are you for real?"

You squeezed his hands tighter. "Yes! I promise!" Before the boy could say anything else, you heard your mother call out your name.

"Where are you?"

You turned to your house and shouted, "Coming, mama!" Looking back at the boy you sheepishly grinned. You let go of his hands and ran back to your home while waving to the boy.

"Sorry, I've got to go. Please come see me again!" You shouted.

"B-but wait, what's your name?" The boy shouts back.

"It's !”

—Present day, Age 26

"Yaga, I'm back!!"

You voice carried through the dark and narrow hallway lit only by candles. The aesthetic felt old and ancient as if you had entered a sacred place. The man you were looking for was in front of you; a rather large, hunched over man wearing sunglasses. Surrounding him were his creations: felted dolls each looking more cute than menacing - the complete opposite to the masculine man who had made them.

"I didn't expect you to be back so soon."

Yaga Masamichi. The Principal to Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School. Much less a father and more of a boss, he had taken you in when you were orphaned. Your life was absolutely normal until the darkest day of your life when your family was murdered. Yaga had responded to the incident as a jujutsu sorcerer and was surprised to find you alive in the aftermath. Seeing you had some abilities to see curses and other makings of a shaman,  Yaga had taken you in and taught you jujutsu on one condition from Jujutsu authorities: that you would work for the betterment of it's society.

You leaned up against a pillar while you placed your hand on your hip on the other. You had just come back from one of those "for the betterment of jujutsu society" overseas missions. Sighing, you threw your bag from your shoulder onto the floor.

"You wouldn't believe what the American's are doing," you yawned, "They still think they can use their guns to shoot curses."

Yaga grunted. "Westerners. It's expected they don't know much about jujutsu."

The matter-of-fact remark from your sensei made you chuckle. "Here's the report you wanted. Oh! And I got you a fun souvenir,"  you crouched down to your bag and pulled out a small wrapped container and a thick document, handing it over to the silent man. "One of Sukuna's fingers I picked up on my way back... ~You're welcome~"

Yaga placed the document down and looked at the purplish and embalmed finger. You were surprised he'd care more about the finger than the document but didn't think much of it. "Well I'll see you at home-"

"Wait.”

You turned around. "What is it?"

He ushered you to sit across from him. "It's about Sukuna. The curse has been awakened."

His voice echoed in the silence. The expression on your face darkened.

"What happened?"

Yaga went on to inform you about Ryomen Sukuna, "The King of Curses," and it's surprise awakening, and about how it came about by a seemingly-regular high school boy eating one of it's fingers. What surprised you the most was despite having eaten a special grade cursed object the boy lived, becoming a vessel for one of the most vile curses known to jujutsu sorcerers.

"So I assume you want me to keep collecting them," you began, "And I'm assuming the boy will be executed."

"No. I want you here." Yaga placed the finger in his pocket and got up. If his voice didn't command presence, his height sure did.

"Satoru Gojo, the heir of the Gojo clan, is the boy's instructor. I want you to keep an eye on both of them, especially Gojo. I suspect he'll be reckless with the boy."

'Satoru Gojo,' you thought. You had heard of the name before but never actually met the sorcerer. You knew he was somewhat of an icon; hearing stories in passing about his clan or his near-legendary power. You were on the fringes of jujutsu society; most of your life was spent either away on missions or training with other sorcerers.

"So you want me to spy on this guy?" You shrugged, "You always kept me away from the school. Why the sudden change?"

"Sukuna's presence changes things."

You furrowed your brows. 'Always with the vague and convoluted answers..."

Despite this; you trusted Yaga. He had taken you in after the death of your family. You felt like you owed him for the second chance of life and freedom you had now. Visiting other countries on his behalf was nice. Lonely at times, but nice.

It was the higher ups that you weren't quite fond of. Old, crotchety men with their outdated ideals that you wish they'd just shove up their asses. Despite the awakening of a mass murdering curse such as Ryomen Sukuna, you couldn't stop thinking about this boy, Yuji Itadori, and how he must be feeling after his life was turned upside down. You knew the feeling all too well.

"Fine, I'll keep an eye on them."

Your sensei nodded. "Oh, and one last thing..."

"Do not show your eye to anyone. Especially Satoru Gojo."

You looked up at Yaga causing your long side bangs of hair moving to the side to reveal your face. Peering up at him you briefly opened your left eye; the blue iris looking almost electric and exciting both in color and in motion.

"Yes sir."

[patheticdarling]

Just a Chance

   Summary: Reader and Aaron have been seeing one another for quite a while. But Reader still can’t seem to connect with Jack, who is still not keen on his dad looking for a “new mommy” so soon. 

   Warnings: mentions of losing a parent/mourning/step-parent issues/mentions of cancer/lots of talk of death/implied smut/kissing

   Word Count: 1465

*NOT MY GIF*

   You took in a deep breath before knocking on the apartment door. 

  “Hey, Y/N,” your boyfriend greeted, kissing your cheek, “Come on in. Dinners almost ready.” 

   “Hi, Aaron,” you smiled as you stepped into the apartment, “How was work this week?”

   Aaron rushed over to help you shed your coat, “It was work, to say the least,” he joked, “How about you?” 

   You shrugged, “Same old, same old.” 

  You had met Aaron through your J.J. and Will. You were another detective, Will’s partner to be exact, and they had gotten the crazy idea to introduce to Aaron. Course, you had already heard his tragic backstory and knew he had a pretty young son so you were apprehensive at first. But after that first date, you swore you were head over heels for the FBI Agent. And Aaron was just as smitten with you. Your relationship was near perfection, only problem was Aaron’s son, Jack, pretty much hated your guts. 

   “J.J. and Will say hi,” Aaron spoke as you followed him into the kitchen. 

   You grinned, “Smells good. What’re you making?” 

   “Pasta Fagioli al Forno,” he spoke with a poorly done, yet cheeky Italian accent, “My coworker, Dave, gave me the recipe.” 

   “Oh, David Rossi,” you nodded, “I remember him. He made me that Italian wedding soup when I was sick, right?” 

   Aaron nodded, “That’d be him.” 

   “It’s awfully quiet,” you commented as you peered around the seemingly empty apartment, “Is Jack home?” 

   Aaron glanced at his watch, “Jessica should be bringing him home any minute from soccer practice. I told her I was cooking us dinner so she did me the favour.” 

   “Oh ok, got it,” you nodded. You knew that meant tonight’s dinner would be quite awkward, Jack was pretty much silent whenever he ate with you and Aaron. Only really being enthusiastic when his dad spoke and cold when you did. 

   There was a knock on the door, Aaron placing the dish he had just pulled from the oven onto the center of the table. 

   “Mind getting the silverware?” he asked as he removed his oven mitts. 

   “No problem,” you got up from your chair and began to collect silverware for the three of you. 

   “Dad!” you heard Jack’s voice. 

   “Hey buddy,” Aaron greeted his son, “Thanks so much again, Jessica.”

   “No problem,” Jessica answered. 

   You finished setting the silverware before peering into the living room. 

   “Jack say hi to Y/N,” Aaron enthused. 

   Jack’s smile dropped, “Oh hey Y/N.” 

   “Hi, Jack,” you waved, “How're you, sweetheart? How was soccer practice?”

   “Fine,” he shrugged. 

   Before things could get more awkward, Aaron stepped in, “Jack, buddy, why don’t you go get washed up for dinner?” 

   “Kay,” he answered, “Bye Aunt Jessica,” he waved as he walked back to his room, quickly pushing past you. 

   “Bye Jack!” she called after him. 

   Aaron cleared his throat, “Jessica, you remember Y/N, my girlfriend.” 

   “Of course,” Jessica smiled, pulling you into a friendly hug, “Y/N, how have you been?” 

   You grinned as you pulled away, “Pretty okay. How about yourself?”

  “Doing well,” she nodded. 

  “Would you like to join us for dinner? I can help Aaron set another plate,” you offered. 

  “Oh no that’s okay, sweetie. I’ve actually got to get going. But it was so good seeing you,” she smiled, “Goodnight you guys.” 

   “Night,” Aaron smiled as he closed the door behind her, “So, ready for dinner?” 

   “Yeah,” you nodded as you went over to the table. 

   “Let me just go get Jack,” he excused himself before heading down the hall. 

  You sat awkwardly as you poured Aaron then yourself a glass of wine. Taking a sip of the sweet alcohol before Aaron returned, looking a bit upset and without Jack. 

   “Everything alright, honey?” you asked as he took a seat at the table. 

   “Jack said that he’d rather have dinner in his room tonight,” Aaron explained as he plated some of the food onto Jack’s plate. 

   “Oh,” you muttered, “Did he say why?” You asked, already having a sense of what the answer was. 

   “Not exactly,” Aaron cleared his throat as grabbed a fork and napkin along with a glass of water. 

   “Here,” you stood up, taking the food from him, “Let me take it to him.” 

   “Honey, you don’t have to do that,” Aaron tried to argue. 

   “Aaron, we both know that I need to do this,” you explained. 

   Aaron nodded reluctantly, letting you take the food, “Let me know if you need anything?” 

   “Alright,” you nodded, kissing his cheek before setting off down the hall, “Knock, knock,” you muttered as you pushed the door the rest of the way open. 

   Jack looked up from his video game, a disappointed look falling on his face, “Oh, it’s just you. You can just put the food on my desk.” 

   “Actually,” you set the food down, “I was hoping the two of us can talk.” 

   Jack sighed, pausing his video game and setting down the controller, “What is it?

   You sighed, taking a seat on his desk chair across from him, “Look, Jack, I know that me dating your father is probably a really strange and uncomfortable thing for you to have to go through. And I want you to know you can talk to me because I know-” 

   “What do you know?” Jack cut you off, “You barely know me!” he stood to his feet, “You’re just forced to pretend you like me because of my dad! You don’t know what I’m going through, nobody does!”

   “Well that’s just not true, Jack,” you explained, “I happen to know exactly what it feels like to lose a mother.” 

   Jack let out a heavy breath, “You do?” 

   You nodded, Jack calmed down a bit as he sat back down, “When I was your age, give or take a few years, my mom found out she had cancer,” you started to tear up just at the memory, “Her doctors, t-they did everything they could but we lost her only six months after her diagnosis. She was a single mom. So it was just my older brother, me, and my little sister. Alone,” you sniffled. 

   “Where was your dad?” he asked. 

   You quickly dried your eyes with one of the napkins you had brought in, “He, um,” you cleared your throat, “He left a few years before that. I was only nine.”

   “I’m sorry,” Jack muttered. 

   “Oh, it’s okay,” you sniffled, waving him off with a smile, “Jack, I just want you to know that you’re not alone. And if you ever need someone to talk to, someone with a similar perspective, I’m here for you.” 

   Jack was silent a moment as he stared down at his feet. A sort of awkward silence filled the room. 

   “Well,” you stood to leave, “I’ll let you eat your dinner in peace. And if you need-” 

   Your words were cut short as Jack wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. Caught off guard for a mere moment before softly embracing him back. 

   “Thank you, Y/N,” Jack whispered into your embrace. 

   “Of course, sweetheart,” you whispered back as you stroked his hair. 

   Jack smiled at you before grabbing his dinner plate and dashing back out into the hall with you in tow. 

   “Hey buddy,” Aaron greeted his son as you both joined him at the dinner table, “I was thinking after dinner, we could watch some Star Wars. Just us boys.” 

   “Cool!” Jack grinned, “But, Dad?”

  “Yes, Jack?” 

   “Would it be alright if Y/N watched with us?” Jack asked. You looked up from your plate, both you and Aaron surprised at Jack’s offer. 

  “Um,” Aaron cleared his throat before looking up at you, “Only if you’re not busy.” 

  You shook your head, grinning, “I’m free all night.”

   You were helping Aaron clean up after dinner while Jack was showering and getting into his pajamas before you all sat to watch the movie. 

   “Alright, you’ve got to tell me your secret,” Aaron spoke as you finished drying dishes. 

   You chuckled, “What secret?” 

   “I have never been able to get Jack out of a bad mood so efficiently,” he explained, “I wanna know how you did it.” 

   You smiled, shaking your head, “It’s nothing. He just needed somebody to relate to, Aaron. No further explanation needed.” 

   Aaron chuckled, “Whatever you say, honey.” 

  You smiled as Aaron wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you softly, “I might not be able to share that particular secret. But I’ve got loads of others I’d be more than open to sharing with you, later tonight.” 

   “Excellent,” Aaron smirked as he kissed you again. 

   “Ready guys?” Jack’s voice came running down the hall as you and Aaron pulled away quickly. 

   You grabbed the freshly-made bowl of popcorn off the counter, “Ready, Jack.” 

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Walburga Comes for Dinner (one shot)

Regulus Black AU

Summary:  Walburga comes for dinner and sees her children for the first time in a very long time. (goes with the Dinner with the Dursleys and Tuesday night dinner one shot...see below for links)

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: T

Dinner with the Dursleys 

Tuesday Night Dinners 

_______

This will be interesting…

That was the thought that went through your mind when Regulus stepped through the front door after a long day at work. Joanna immediately waddled over to her father, hopping up and down screaming “daddy” until he was able to get his coat off and pay attention to the child.

“Good, Joanna. Get him buttered up.”

You thought as Regulus came into the kitchen snuggling his face against Joanna’s head.

“You look pretty, darling.’’

Regulus commented, looking you over. He was ready for nothing more than a quiet Thursday night. By quiet this meant having dinner, giving Joanna a bath, getting the child in bed without her needing twenty hugs while making Regulus look for a random spider under her bed that she was convinced would eat her toes, and alone time with you. People at the Ministry were driving him batty and Regulus didn’t have the patience for any calamities that night.

“I’m pretty too.”

Joanna said in an extra sassy tone that earned a smile from Regulus.

“Of course you are love. You’re the prettiest little girl ever. Why don’t you go play with your dollhouse?”

Joanna, appeased with Regulus’ comment, didn't fuss when he put her down. She toddled off. Regulus waited until Joanna was quietly amused before wrapping his arms around you.

“Now, as I was saying, you look beyond pretty...absolutely ravishing is more like it.”

You relaxed in Regulus’ arms enjoying the moment of quiet uninterrupted alone time. As much as you didn’t want to, you knew that you had to break the news to him.

“Guess who is coming to dinner?”

“Merlin, I don’t feel like entertaining.”

Regulus groaned. You had expected this reaction. Things were only about to get more interesting.

“It’s your mother.”

Regulus’ mouth dropped. He hadn’t seen his mother in ages. She wasn’t there when Joanna was born or through your pregnancy. Walburga had sworn that she would never speak to Regulus as long as he was married to “that mudblood girl.” Regulus was just fine with his mother’s promise. He had no use for the woman if she was going to insult his wife. All Regulus needed to be happy was Joanna and yourself. Walburga no longer fit into the equation of his life. When Regulus stopped believing in the “Black family way” he realized how messed up everything truly was.

“Why?”

Regulus said, crossing his arms over his chest. You put down the bowl that you were holding. To say that you were looking forward to meeting Walburga was a far stretch. You would much rather it be your mother and father coming for dinner.

“She wants to see you. I suppose she’s feeling guilty about not seeing Joanna yet. Maybe she even feels a bit guilty because she is getting old and has no son to look after her now that your father is dead.”

Regulus mumbled something under his breath before going off to search for the bottle of fire whiskey. He needed some liquid motivation if his mother was going to be stepping foot inside of his home.

“She can go to a home for the elderly. I am not looking after her. I was the good son long enough.”

Regulus commented before smiling coldly.

“Watch this.”

He said before picking up the muggle telephone and calling Sirius. You had picked up your teacup and were keeping an eye on your husband. He was up to something and you had a sneaking suspicion on what he was going to do

“Hey, it's me. Want to come over for dinner?I know you never wait for an invitation. See you at six.”

Regulus hung up the phone before grinning at you.

“He can’t wait to see his mother.”

You shook your head. Now things were about to be a shit show.

An hour later there was a knock at the door. Regulus stood up knowing who that was. Walburga fucking Black was back to ruin his life and cause problems.

“I’ll get it, love.”

He commented before going to the door. Walburga stood on the other side with her usual snobby expression. She forced a smile as she looked at her youngest son. Regulus was handsome and well put together as always.

“Regulus.”

“Mother.”

Regulus kept his tone cold and icy. Walburga expected Regulus’ off-putting and unfriendly attitude. She assumed that he was still angry over her calling you mudblood. In Walburga’s mind, she was correct. Her “darling boy” married a less than desirable woman and this seemed to wedge between the two.

“Come in.”

Regulus said, keeping his eyes locked Walburga’s unfriendly face. He reached out and stopped her before she was able to get too far inside.

“I’m warning you now. If you are the least bit rude to my family, I will not hesitate to throw you out.”

Walburga glared at him. She wanted nothing more than to throw a few nasty mudblood comments out but decided if she didn’t want to die alone it would be in her best interest to be decent.

“I understand.”

Walburga looked around the homey living room. The house was very nice. Clearly, Regulus was doing well for his family.

“Daddy, come play with me.”

Walburga’s head snapped up the moment she heard the little voice that she had been wanting to hear for some time. She would never admit it but she had wanted to see her granddaughter from the time that the birth announcement came in the mail. Walburga had sent Joanna an “add-a-pearl” necklace as a way to say “welcome to the world” and that was that.

Regulus never took the time to send Walburga a photo or anything. Now before her stood the most lovely child that she had ever seen (with the exception of Regulus, of course).

Walburga watched as Regulus bent down to pick the little girl up. Joanna’s raven curls wildly fell down her back as she pressed her face into her father’s cheek. It wasn’t until Joanna pulled away from cuddling Regulus did she notice the new face in the room. She looked at Walburga carefully. Clearly, the little girl was well versed in “not talking to strangers.”

“Joanna, this is your grandma.”

Walbruga forced a small smile as Joanna put her head on Regulus’ shoulder.

She’s shy...just like he used to be.

Watching Regulus with Joanna, made Walburga’s heartache. Had she really lost so much time with her own son? While Walburga had wanted no part of being a mother originally, after losing Sirius then Regulus walking away for a muggle-born she realized how much that she actually loved her children.

“You can sit down, mother. I’m going to check on Y/n.”

Walburga immediately did as her son said as Regulus sat Joanna down.

“Keep grandma company.”

Regulus said softly. Part of him was screaming about leaving his darling baby alone with the hateful old woman but he knew Joanna would cause Walburga more annoyance. That in itself would be amusing enough. Besides, from his place in the kitchen door, Regulus could see the two perfectly.

You had just pulled the ham out of the oven when Regulus stepped into the room.

“Everything okay?”

You questioned. Regulus shrugged.

“She just walked in the door and I already feel like the love has been sucked out of me.”

You put the oven mitts down and wrapped your arms around Regulus’ shoulders. Kissing him softly, you chose to ignore Walburga who was watching the whole thing.

“I’ll suck something else out of you later.”

You said in a low suggestive tone. Regulus slightly blushed to know exactly what you meant and he would argue.

“That sounds tempting. We can throw her out, put the baby in bed, and have all evening alone.”

Before you could respond the back door opened and closed. Sirius stepped into the kitchen and smirked looking at Regulus and yourself.

“It's a wonder I only have one niece. The way you two snog there should be three or four kids running around here.”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“One is enough. What about your love life?”

Sirius’ amused expression faded.

“Moony can’t get pregnant.”

Regulus put a hand over his face while you quietly laughed.

“How are we related?”

Regulus questioned as Sirius moved to go into the living room to see what his precious little niece was up to. He froze the moment that he saw the biggest demon from hell parked on his little brother’s couch talking to Joanna.

“Oh hell no.”

Sirius snapped before turning to make a line for the door but was stopped when Regulus brought him to the ground.

“If I’m stuck with her then you should be too.”

Sirius fought the urge to scream.

“You’re just evil!”

“Is everything alright in here?”

Both Sirius and Regulus got off of the kitchen floor as Walburga came in. Her cold grey eyes locked on her eldest son. The disappointment returned in full force as she looked between both Sirius and Regulus. While Regulus was dressed in a nice suit, Sirius looked like he had just gotten out of bed in tight clothing that he had worn for a few days.

“Sirius.”

“Walburga.”

Sirius decided not to call her “mum” to antagonize her. Regulus fought the urge to put a hand over his face as he remembered you standing beside him.

“Mum, this is my Y/n.”

Walburga’s vulture-like gaze turned to you.

So this is the girl that stole my baby from me.

Walburga thought before muttering a quiet and unfriendly hello. You only nodded. It was probably best that you kept your mouth shut. You were afraid that you would start going off on the woman for the way that she did both of her sons.

“Uncle Siri!”

Sirius had to tear himself away from watching you plot evilly as Joanna came running to him holding her hands out. He quickly reached down and scooped Joanna up, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Jojo, where have you been all of my life?”

“In the living room. Did you bring me my pony?”

Sirius laughed as Regulus immediately started shaking his head.

“Do you want your daddy to kill me?”

“No, daddy wouldn't notice it if you stuck it in the back garden and tied it to a bush.”

Joanna commented, adding a sneaky little blink. Sirius laughed again.

“First things first, sugar, your daddy is standing right over there and can hear. Let's get you ready to eat.”

Dinner started off smoothly. You tried to speak quietly to Walburga but were only getting one or two-word responses. If you needed any more proof that your mother-in-law didn’t like you...this was it. You could feel Regulus tense beside you.

“It's okay, love.”

You whispered quietly as Sirius leaned back in his chair. He gave you an eyebrow wiggle before speaking.

“So, mum, what got you out of the stone-cold manor? Did you get that steak out of your heart finally? You have surely missed a lot of Joanna’s life...although she doesn't look very concerned.”

Joanna was happily ignoring everyone and nibbling on her little plate of noodles. She didn’t seem the least bit concerned with anything that was going on around her.

“That’s very amusing, Sirius. I thought that the two of you should know that I am remarrying.”

Both Regulus and Sirius dropped their forks as your eyes rolled up, clearly shocked.

“Is that supposed to be a joke?”

Regulus questioned. Sirius started laughing so hard that he had to put his head down.

“Is the guy desperate or already on the verge of death? Did you meet him on evil witch weekly’s personal page?”

Walburga frowned. This was clearly not the reaction that she expected. She had planned on Regulus being a little more supportive than her elder son.

“You’re not funny, Sirius. I decided to meet someone who enjoys my company?”

Sirius snorted.

“Does he enjoy you smacking him around or just ignoring him like you did dad?”

Walburga put her fork down.

“Regulus, do you have anything to say?”

Regulus chuckled. This whole situation was completely ludicrous.

“I thought that you only loved yourself.”

Walburga stood up and threw her napkin down on the table.

“I thought that I would get some support from my son. I didn’t come here to be made a fool.”

Walburga turned and stormed from the house without another word. Joanna was the next to speak.

“Granny needs a nap.”

Sirius nodded and stood up to take his plate to the sink.

“Sure does, Jojo, a nice nap in a big wooden box...six feet under. Who wants cake?”

_________

@amelie-black @vixen @fandomsxxregulus @realgaytrash @acciosiriusblack @fific7 @jessyballet @knreidy1 @wolfstar4lifee @saturntomars @sxsalvatore @georgeweasleydumbhoe @zievyimas @buttercup-beeee @justfinishthis @vvipgot7be @whymyparentscheckmyphone @criminalyetminimal @bennyberry @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @siriuslyceleste @dumybitch @quuenofblacks @lucasfilms77 @spiderxalmighty @moonythemilf @fangirlforever2412 @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032​ @li0nh34rt​ @tas898 @deanwherescas @untoldshortsofthefandoms @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @sprnaturallover​ @shitfaceddaniel​ @wontlookaway​ @mycuddlycorner​ @rubyroscoe1 @hazncalsgal 

[tlcwrites]

Fall to Pieces- Part 2

Poe Dameron x Reader, Modern AU

He tried and failed to swallow the lump in his throat. “I love you, sweetheart.” Your smile was watery and your voice soft. “I love you, Poe.” He tried not to think about how you didn’t mean your words the same way he did his.

Word Count: 5055

Tags/Warnings: Angst. Not as much as in Part 1, but a lot. But lots of fluff, too. And lots of bad language words. Probably a lot of typos, too. It's fucking hard to write past tense when you're used to present tense. If you notice any tense changes, could you pretty please message me because that's my pet peeve and I'm going to have nightmares I missed some.

Author’s Note: It's here! Part 2! I am absolutely bowled over by the response to Part 1; y'all are the fucking best. I have cackled with glee at every single reblog and comment and review, and I cannot possibly verbalize how much it means to me that so many of you are as invested in this crazy little AU as I am. I sincerely hope you enjoy where this is headed. I had to make one small edit to part 1, because I for some reason thought Shara Bey died when Poe was a teenager (canonically he's 8), and I featured her at The Riverside Picnic when Poe and Reader are 12 so, whoops. Whatever at least I didn’t write “somehow, palpatine has returned" in a multi-billion dollar film franchise. My military knowledge is also based on proximity and not experience, and my ANC knowledge even less, so even though I’ve researched as thoroughly as possible, please forgive any glaring factual errors. Thanks as always to my ride-or-die @paper-n-ashes for letting me ramble about plot arcs and for yelling at me when I get too stuck in my head. She's also the one who saved y'all from a brutal section of this chapter but really she didn't because she suggested posting it as a oneshot, and now it's even more brutal, so just remember it's all Sarah's fault. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3

Age 6

There was a moving truck in the driveway of the house next door when he got home from school.

He’d heard his mom mention to his dad that someone had finally bought Mr. Kenobi’s house, which made him sad and happy at the same time. Sad, because he missed Mr. Kenobi, who would come over when Poe needed a babysitter, and who would always play as much Legos as Poe wanted.

But Poe was also happy, because his mom said the new neighbors had kids. And on the day he saw the moving truck, he was even more excited, because he could see a bike sitting next to the garage, and bikes that size meant kids his age. Or at least, he really, really, really hoped so.

He waved to Snap and Miss Norra, who waved back before they continued towards their house down the street, and clambered up the front steps. When he pushed open the door, the aroma of his grandmother’s signature cookies hit him like a wave, evoking memories of weekends spent sitting on the stool in her kitchen and munching on all sorts of deliciousness, as she baked and told him stories of her homeland- and swore in colorful Spanish. He followed the scent down the hallway towards the kitchen, where he dumped his backpack next to the door and stood on his tiptoes to see over the edge of the counter. “Are those Nana Bey’s polvorosas?”

“Hey hey hey, paws off, bud.” Kes was transferring the still-hot cookies from the baking sheet to the cooling rack. “These are for the new neighbors.”

“Just one? Please?” Poe schooled his face into his best feed-me-I’m-starving face, but his dad shook his head.

“Sorry, little man.” He gently bopped his son on the head with one of the oven mitts as he reached to return them to their hook. “But we can make more this weekend, ‘kay?”

No, not okay, Poe thought to himself, and when his dad crossed to the sink to wash the baking sheet, Poe stealthily reached for the cookie nearest him.

Kes didn’t even turn around from the sink. “Don’t even think about it.”

Poe, a mere fingertip away from the powder sugar coated deliciousness, slumped dejectedly. “Why do the neighbors get all the cookies?” he whined. Those were his Nana’s cookies, after all, and he definitely shouldn’t have to share them.

“Because we welcome new neighbors to the neighborhood,” Kes replied, “and in the Dameron house, that means cookies.”

Pouting, Poe dragged his feet over to the kitchen table, flopping heavily into one of the chairs. He was not excited about having new neighbors now.

--

“Poe!” Shara waved from the front hedge.

Poe glanced up from where he was docking his favorite spaceship in the drainpipe next to the garage (the tube was the perfect size to substitute for an airlock), and saw his parents talking to two grownups on the other side of the low shrubs, one of whom was holding a brown box tied with twine.

The cookie thieves.

Shara was gesturing him over, a look-at-my-beautiful-child-who-is-gonna-lose-the-Xbox-for-the-weekend-if-they-don’t-get-their-butt-over-here-right-now smile firmly in place. With all the hostility a six-year-old can muster, Poe dropped his toys and sulked across the yard, definitely not digging his toes into Kes’s meticulously maintained lawn in protest.

All four grownups smiled at his performance.

Shara affectionately smoothed his curls as he reached his parents. “This is our son, Poe.” She introduced the new neighbors, and he dutifully shook their hands.

“How old are you, Poe?” one of the grownups asked with a kind smile.

He puffed out his chest. “I’m six and two thirds.” He’d double checked the big calendar last week to be sure.

The grownups made that face that meant they thought he was absolutely precious (grownups were so weird), and the one holding the stolen cookies gestured towards their new house. “How perfect is that? We know a six-year-old who I bet would love to be your friend!”

Poe perked up. Please let him like soccer, please let him like soccer...

The same grownup called your name, and Poe couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled.

Ugh. A girl. Great.

Then you popped up from behind the railing of the porch.

Poe wasn’t sure what emotion suddenly engulfed him; his skin felt too tight, and his mouth had gone dry as chalk. His heart was having a parade inside his chest, beating so loudly that he was sure it was audible from outside his body.

You skipped down the steps, the braids in your hair swinging as you crossed the yard. You pressed yourself against your mom’s hip as she introduced you to the elder Damerons.

“And this is Poe.” Your mom announced him with that kind of voice that meant the grownups knew something the kids didn’t. Poe hated that voice. He didn’t like not knowing things.

But he liked your smile. It radiated joy, even presented as shyly as it was.

He wanted to do whatever would keep you smiling like that.

“Hi,” you chirped. “You wanna play space with me?”

And he realized you were holding the same spaceship he’d just been playing with.

He was nodding before his brain could recognize the movement.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, having a girl for a friend, if she liked spaceships, too.

...maybe she even liked soccer.

Age 11

“I don’t want to.” Poe’s chin was set in that way that meant stubborn defiance. You knew better than to try to change his mind when he got that look.

His dad, however, did not.

“You don’t have a choice,” Kes informed him, shrugging on his jacket and heading towards the garage. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. You both need to be ready then.”

“We’ll be ready.” Smoothly interjecting, you discreetly yanked Poe backwards before he could pop off and land himself in even hotter water. The look he sent your way was one of complete and utter betrayal, but the one you sent back said ‘shut up if you want to walk out of here without being grounded’.

Wisely, he bit his tongue until his dad had left the room. Then, he wheeled on you. “Why didn’t you back me up?!”

“Because it’s not up to me?” You rolled your eyes at his impertinent look. “It’s not, you idiot, and you know it. What am I gonna say? ‘Sorry, Mr. Dameron, Poe and I aren’t going to go visit Miss Shara’s grave with you today, even though it’s her birthday and-’”

“It’s not her birthday,” Poe snapped.

His vehemence made you blink. “Yes, it-”

“You have to be alive to have a birthday.” He pulled his beanie out of his pocket. It was the one you gave him last Christmas. It was orange and black, his favorite colors. It was his favorite hat, because it was from you. He yanked it on his head at the same time he shoved his feet into his boots. “She can’t have a birthday anymore, because she’s dead.”

You have no response to that. What could possibly be said?

Poe sniffed and shoved a fist across his cheek, ignoring the sharp prickling at his waterline. “I hate that he makes us go ‘visit’ her. We’re not visiting her. She’s not there. It’s just a rock on the ground, but he acts like she can hear us and see us. But she can’t, because she’s dead, and we all know she’s dead, and pretending she’s still there doesn’t- it can’t bring her back, and-” His breath started coming in gasps as he desperately tried to hang on to his anger. Anger hurt less. “She- she left me, and she can’t come back, and- and-”

You caught him as he went to his knees, and he curled into you, sobbing his anguish against your neck. He could feel your own tears on his cheek.

“It’s been three years.” His voice cracked. “Why does it still hurt so bad?”

You didn’t answer, because there wasn’t one to give.

Later, at the cemetery, Poe gripped your hand tightly the whole way back to the car. No one needed to know he’d hugged his mother’s gravestone and cried, the same way he would cry on her shoulder as she held him in her arms.

Just because she was gone didn’t mean he didn’t miss her every second of every day.

Age 18

“Oh my god, staaaawp.” You swatted Karé’s hands away from your hair. “It’s fine!”

Poe, sitting on the other side of the kitchen island, smothered his grin.

“You look like you were in a bar fight, please just let me fix that one piece,” Karé bargained, but you ducked away, and took refuge behind Poe.

He held up his hands as you gripped the back of his tux jacket like a shield. “Hey! Innocent bystander!”

Snap guffawed. “Innocent?” He tossed you the ice pack he’d pulled from the freezer. “Instigator, you mean.”

“I did not instigate,” Poe protested as you wrapped a towel around the ice and shoved it towards his face.

“You gave Tritt Opan a deviated septum and a black eye.” Ben’s dry observation was negated by the amusement in his eyes. “Pretty sure that’s considered ‘instigating’.”

“Looked to me like Tritt was- no, you noodle, it doesn’t do anything if you don’t keep it there-” You forced Poe to actually put the ice on his swollen lip before you looked back at Ben. “Looked like Tritt was drunk and accidentally ran into that door.” Your theatrical sigh made Poe smile behind the pack. “It was so sad to watch. Wasn’t it sad, Alex?”

“So sad.” Alexys fluttered her eyelashes up at Ben. “All kinds of sad.”

“And Artemisia of Caria over there?” He asked her, jerking his head towards you. “I suppose it’s a total coincidence that Tritt has a shoe print on his ass that exactly matches the tread of her heels?”

“Total coincidence,” Jessika, perched on the counter, replied with zero hesitation. “Also, kinky.”

“There’s no way it’s her shoe print.” Using your distraction with Poe to her advantage, Karé gave a cry of victory as she finally managed to pin back the last of your errant locks, before laughing as you flapped your hands to shoo her away. “You know, since she was obviously with us in the bathroom,” she continued, “and therefore couldn’t possibly have booted that prick into the vending machine.” “Really, since we’re girls and therefore incapable of using the toilet alone-” Jessika snorted as she watched you shove the ice pack back against Poe’s face and ignored his muffled “ow?!’, “Our alibis are airtight, and clearly none of us could have been involved in showing that dipshit why he doesn’t mess with Black Squadron.”

“Amen to that.” Snap dropped into the chair next to Karé.

Alexys looked up at her boyfriend. “You know that anyone who doesn’t know it’s the name of the soccer team is going to think y’all are in a gang or something, right?” “It’s intentional.” Ben tucked her closer against his side and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “You don’t actually need to carry the biggest stick if everyone thinks you’re carrying the biggest stick.”

“Furthermore-” Karé brandished her Twizzler like said biggest stick. “-even if anyone in this room had, say, kicked that fucker’s ass-”

“Literally,” Snap added, and exchanged a long distance high five with you. “-and then if anyone else had punched that fucker into next week-”

“Hypothetically?” Ben inquired drolly, and Poe raised his ice pack in salute.

Karé tipped her metaphorical hat to him. “Of course; even then, they wouldn’t be at fault, because-”

“-because that little shit has been cruisin for a bruisin since freshman year when he snapped Pammich’s bra strap so hard it broke,” you muttered under your breath, and Poe had to resist the urge to reach for your hand.

“Because,” Karé repeated at a slightly higher volume, “we all saw him swing at Poe first, and Poe can’t possibly be considered at fault for defending himself.” After a moment to absorb Karé’s reasoning, Poe himself cheekily piped, “Wait, how’d you all see him come at me if you were in the bathroom?”

A collective groan went up as he laughed, and you lovingly smacked him upside the head on behalf of the group. “Some prom, right?” Snap quipped at Ben.

As your friends relaxed into the friendly banter that was the hallmark of the close-knit group, you sat next to Poe and used examining his injuries as cover. “You’re not going to tell Ben what Tritt said, right?” you murmured so low there was no chance anyone but Poe could have heard you. “You know he’d do something stupid.”

“Of course I won’t.” Poe Dameron was many things, but fiercely protective of his friends was at the top of that list. He would defend any of them to the teeth, Ben especially. No one deserved to go through what Ben had gone through. Ben never needed to hear the bile Tritt had spewed about Ben’s grandfather, Ben's uncle, and Ben’s mother. The smears against the Senator were stupid at best and easily-disproven at worst, and who cared about Pastor Skywalker, but the insinuation that Ben was anything like his grandfather, especially given the abuse Ben had suffered…

If you hadn’t sent Tritt flying with that kick, Poe might have gone a lot further than a broken nose and a black eye. Thank goodness the two of you had been the only ones to hear the insults, or the entire team would have ended up suspended.

No one got to hurt their Ben and get away with it.

Snap’s voice jerked Poe out of his ruminations. “Okay, I can't take it anymore. We’ve gone all night; is no one gonna ask the question?” He pointed at you. “C’mon Miss Hey-Poe-Let’s-Go-To-Prom-As-Friends. When are you and you-” he clapped Poe’s shoulder, “-gonna finally admit that this “we’re just best friends” crap is 100%, grade-A bullshit?”

Poe’s heart leapt in his chest, but you didn’t notice, and instead pelted Snap with pieces of popcorn. “Never, you dingus, because we are just best friends.”

The split in his lip throbbed as Poe forced himself to echo your grin. “Yep,” he said, “just best friends.”

Age 21

“Salmeterol is long acting, albuterol is short acting.” You tossed the beanbag back to Poe.

He deftly caught it and flipped to the next card. “Actions, use, serious side effects and specific nursing measures for administration of ondansetron.”

He lobbed the beanbag back to you.

“It’s.. fuck.” You dropped your head onto the counter. “I’m going to fail.”

“You’re not going to fail.” Poe snagged your last fry, then shielded himself when you threw a napkin at him in retaliation. “You jump, I jump, remember?”

You snorted in response. “I am never letting you watch that movie again.”

“I’ll never let go,” he crooned, before yelping as you threw the beanbag that time. “Escalating violence! It’s a pattern!”

“I have no idea why I tolerate you.” Your words might have been harsh, but the doting smile on your face clearly negated them.

He had no idea either, but fuck, he didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

What he said was “Because of my roguish charm. And my cute butt.”

That won the laugh he was going for.

As she walked past with another order, Patty smoothly slid another basket of fries between the two of you, winking conspiratorially. “My contribution to the study efforts.”

“You’re the best, Miss Patty,” you praised her, while Poe shoved a handful into his mouth.

“Okay,” he announced around his mouthful of fries, tossing the beanbag back to you, “The actions, use, serious side effects and specific nursing measures for administration of ondansetron.”

Your anxious sigh had him looking back up, frowning as he watched you shift the beanbag unconsciously between your fists.

“Hey.” He swallowed the last of the fries, and stilled your motion by covering your hands with his. “It’s gonna be okay, alright? I’ve got you.”

Uncharacteristically, at least with him, your smile was shy. It took him back to that first time he’d seen you, half-hiding behind your mother’s leg. “Always?”

“Always.” It’s a vow he’d die before breaking.

Age 23

He hated seeing you like this. You were clearly trying not to cry, putting on a brave face that likely fooled everyone but him. Other than the several weeks he was at BLC, it was going to be the first significant stretch of time the two of you had ever spent apart.

He watched you over his dad’s shoulder as Kes hugged him tightly, giving his dad the signature Poe Dameron cocky grin as they separated. “Love you, Pop.”

“Love you, Poe.” Kes affectionately squeezed his son’s shoulders before he let go. “Be safe.”

Poe nodded. “Mom would kick my ass if I wasn’t.”

Kes chuckled. “She would.” He nodded to himself, before gently tapping the “Dameron” printed on the right side of Poe’s fatigues. “She’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“I promise not to piss her off.”

“See that you don’t,” Kes agreed with a genuine laugh, trailing off as he looked somewhere beyond Poe’s shoulder. “She’s proud of you, wherever she is. Just like I am.”

Fuck. Poe felt the hot rise of tears as his dad clapped him on the shoulder, stepping back and murmuring something about getting the car.

As his dad headed towards the exit, Poe surreptitiously wiped at his eyes, feeling you slide your hand into his. “Sorry.”

“For what?” You smiled, even though it was clearly forced. “God forbid you have emotions the day you’re-” You tried again. “When-”

Your face crumpled before you stepped into the protective circle of Poe’s arms, fisting the front of his jacket as you wept silently against his shoulder. He dropped his head to yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck and breathing you in as deep as he could, so he could carry you with him to the desert in his lungs as well as his heart.

You both had red-rimmed eyes when you finally stepped away. He tried to ignore the racing of his heart when you didn't drop his hand.

"Ben's flying out tomorrow?" you asked.

Poe nodded, drinking you in. It wasn't like he didn't know every freckle, but if this was the last time he was going to see you, possibly- he shut his thoughts down. "Yeah, he'll-" He broke off and frowned. "I can't tell you anymore."

"I know," you reassured him. "It's okay."

Neither of you made any motion to go, even as the CO started calling the troops to attention.

“You stay safe, or I’m coming over there to kick your ass,” you told him, gripping his hand as if you held on hard enough you could keep him from getting on the plane.

God, he didn’t want to get on the plane. “I know you would,” he teased. “And I promise you won’t have to.” Standing in the middle of that airport, your cheeks wet with tears, he knew he had never and would never see anyone or anything as beautiful to him as you. He attempted and failed to swallow the lump in his throat. “I love you, sweetheart.”

Your smile was watery and your voice soft. “I love you, Poe.”

He tried not to think about how you didn’t mean your words the same way he did his.

Age 26

Fuck. He was so, so fucking glad to be home.

Stepping off the escalator, Poe looked around the mele. The terminal was filled with loved ones reuniting, and the joy in the air walked hand in hand with the relief of being afforded such a reunion instead of a visit from an officer and a chaplain.

Poe craned his neck to try to find his dad in the midst of the chaos, but before he could spot him, he heard his name cried by a voice he’d know no matter if he was gone three years or three decades.

“Poe!”

He had half a second to drop his bag before you leapt into his arms, a warm, crying missile of emotion that made him grunt with the force of your impact, and made his heart spring back to life in his chest. Just as you had when he’d left, you cried against his shoulder, but this time, the tears were of joy. And as you held on to him like he’d vanish if you let go, he couldn’t help squeezing you back with just as much ferocious love and relief and the purest fucking happiness he could remember feeling in a long, long time.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me today was when you were coming back?” you scolded with your face still buried against his neck. The disparity of your clinging to him like a koala with the hurt and anger in your voice would have been alarming in anyone else. But you hadn’t been apart long enough for Poe to have forgotten how well you could ‘multitask your feelings’, as you’d once described. “I had to hear it from your dad?!”

“I wasn’t sure I’d be on this flight,” he replied casually, reminding himself of the scent of your hair with as subtle of a breath as he could manage. Then he yanked himself back to reality and wrestled his feelings back under control with the same determination that he always had. But his contrition was sincere. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“S’okay.” You raised your head to give him a watery smile. “But don’t you do it again, Lieutenant Dameron.”

Fuck, your smile. He’d lost count of how many times he’d imagined that smile over there, when the days seemed endless and he couldn’t remember why the fuck he’d signed up to be flung half a world away from you.

“Never, ever again,” he promised. He went to set you back on your feet, and grinned when you refused to let go. Like he’d ever turn down physical contact with you. “Challenge accepted.”

Your shriek when he hefted you higher, and the ensuing epithets heaped on his head as he strode out of the terminal with his duffle over one shoulder and you over the older, would be something he’d treasure until the day he died, he was sure of it.

Age 28

“Did you see?” Rey dropped into the chair across to Poe, grabbing the muffin from the napkin in front of him and taking a huge, chomping bite.

Poe blinked at her over the edge of his book. “Good morning, Rey. Please, help yourself to my breakfast. Would you like some of my coffee to go with waitaminute nonono paws off!” He snatched the peppermint mocha away when she nodded and went to grab it. “Thou shalt not steal the blessed bean juice! And did I see what?”

“Who, ” Finn supplied, heading to the break room coffee maker for some blessed bean juice of his own. “There’s a new anesthesiologist in L&D. Alex sent Ben a picture.”

“He is fiiine,” Rey sang, in between polishing off the rest of Poe’s muffin.

Finn gave her A Look over the rim of his mug. “You are married.”

“So? I’m not dead.” She winked at Poe. “And Jannah thinks he’s hot, too. Spousal cosign.”

“When did Alex meet him?” Poe asked, unsure why there was a pit growing in his stomach.

Rey was tapping on her phone. “C-section yesterday. Here-” she slid the device across the table top towards Poe. “Holdo sure moved fast getting someone in here after Dr. Antilles retired.”

Finn and Rey continued to talk over his head about the new doctor (first in his class at Johns Hopkins, residency at Mass General, 12 years at Stanford, possible inventor of sliced bread, jury was still out), but Poe was trying not to bite through his cheek as he examined the picture. Alex had clearly snapped it covertly, so it was the slightest bit blurry, but it was clear enough to see the new doctor was as handsome as Rey claimed. Poe was secure enough in his sexuality to be able to admit it. But what had his stomach in knots was that in the picture, the doctor- Yeager, Rey supplied- was leaning against the counter of the L&D nursing station, talking to you.

And you were smiling up at him in a way that you’d only ever smiled at Poe.

Age 30

“Is it okay if we do the farmer’s market on Sunday instead of Saturday?” you asked, stealing the cherry from the top of Poe’s milkshake.

“Excuse you! I’m confiscating your pie for that,” Poe mockingly admonished, stabbing his fork into your dessert as you laughed and tried to shield the plate. “But yeah, that’s fine. Why?” he asked around a mouthful of apple and cinnamon. “Your mom coming down?”

You shook your head as you swallowed a bite. “No, Jarek asked me to go with him to the Chihuly exhibit at the Gardner.”

Poe nearly dented his fork with how hard he clenched his fist. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” You were reaching for your water, and thankfully missed his reaction. “He said he was supposed to go with a friend who had to cancel, and he’d heard I love Chihuly.” Poe resolved to cheerfully murder whomever had been the one to impart that particular tidbit.

Oblivious to his irritation, you waved at Miss Patty as she came out of the kitchen before turning back to Poe. “Anyway, you know he lost his family years ago, right?”

Grinding his molars, Poe managed to nod. Everyone knew about the accident that had claimed the life of Dr Yeager’s family. Poe honestly felt for the guy; he couldn’t even make himself imagine what it would be like if he lost you. But the tragedy had somehow added to Yeager’s distinguished allure, and he’d become even more popular among the staff. And it didn’t help that the good doc was both skilled at his job and a really nice guy.

Fucker, Poe thought to himself.

Because Jarek Yeager genuinely was a good guy. He was exactly the kind of man Poe would have hoped you’d end up with: kind, smart, hardworking, clearly knew a good thing when he saw it, since he was into you. He was the kind of man who was deserving of your own kindness, who would appreciate your sense of humor, who would take care of you and love you the way you deserved.

Who didn’t wake up in the middle of the night, thinking he was back in the middle of a war, held captive by his own memories.

And even though the thought of it made him want to be sick, Poe loved you too much to deprive you of someone like that.

If he couldn’t be that person for you, he was glad it might be someone like Yeager.

“Risha was saying it’s almost the anniversary of the accident, and I guess he always tries to stay busy around that time, so I thought it would be nice to keep him company. I wouldn't want to be alone.” You shrugged. “Plus, free dinner after.”

Poe tried to distract himself from his building dread by draining half of his milkshake, thankful for the resulting brain freeze, which was frankly misnamed because it did nothing to freeze his thoughts. “...you like the guy?”

You seemed surprised by his question. “I mean, yeah? He’s really nice. I enjoy working with him.”

“Handsome, too,” Poe supplied.

“Are you-” You’re looking at him with something akin to mirth. “Poe Dameron, are you jealous?”

“What?!” Poe covered his panic with a sharp bark of laughter. “Jealous of who? Yeager? Not at all.” He winked at you with every bit of Dameron charm he could muster. “I’m just keeping an eye out. Gotta defend your honor and all that.”

“My honor?” You snorted. “I’m gonna smack you.”

“It’s in the official best friend handbook. Rule 30, subsection 5, footnote down at the bottom.” He raised his hands in surrender. “It’s out of my hands.”

He tried not to preen as you giggled. “You’re such an idiot.”

“Your idiot. What does that say about your judgement?” He smirked, but couldn’t maintain his joviality. “Seriously, though,” he admitted, uncharacteristically somber. “You’ve been my best friend my whole life. Of course I’m gonna be protective of you.”

“I know,” you smiled. “And I love you for it.”

But not the way Poe wished you did.

You both hesitated for a moment.

“Did you-”

“I had-”

Laughter bloomed as you both tried to speak at once.

You gestured to Poe. “Go ahead.”

He gestured right back. “No, ladies first.”

Your smile faded into something wistful. “Did I ever tell you my parents always thought you and I would end up together?”

“What?” His heart started racing in his chest and he tried to sound glib. “Why?”

“Cause it’s us. You’ve been my best friend my whole life,” you quoted his own words back to him. “You know me better than anyone else on the planet.”

He tried to keep his face schooled into something not resembling the hope he hardly dared to acknowledge. “I mean, you’re not wrong.”

“...have you ever thought about it?” Your voice was soft, and for the first time in almost two and a half decades of friendship, he couldn’t quite tell what you were thinking. It was unsettling.

“Thought about us?” His mouth was so dry it was a sand worm away from being a desert. When you nodded, he swallowed hard.

Only every single moment of every single day since I met you, he wanted to say.

Could he be that brave?

He opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment, there was a crash as a waitress dropped a tray with a table’s worth of orders on it, and he snapped his jaw shut as you turned to look.

He couldn't do it.

When the din had settled, you glanced back to him. “What were we talking about?”

Firmly ignoring his crumbling heart, Poe cleared his throat. “Yeah, Sunday’s good for the market. I’ll grab the coffee on my way.”

Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 3

A/N: I have not gotten beyond the first episode of Resistance, so my knowledge of Jarek Yeager is based on what I gathered from online research and what little analysis my husband would give me ("He's cool, what else do you need to know?"), so I'm sure my interpretation is going to be wildly OOC. And if you caught the reference, Alexys and Risha appear courtesy of @paper-n-ashes from her epic space love triangle Sparks and Embers, and any similarity to any of her characters, living or living, is coincidentally on purpose.

[vs-redemption]

Hi. Not sure if request are allowed (idk what I'm doing) but wondering if you could write something like aizawa finds out reader was sexually abused when they were younger...maybe comforts them and helps them through a panic attack? Holds them while they cry kinda stuff.. It would mean a lot to me (give me all the comfort...I need it 😫)

From Cindy: Hey anon. Requests are definitely allowed. I’m sorry it took me a while to get to this. I hope you are doing all right, and I hope you can get some comfort from this ♥

Dirty (Aizawa x Reader)

⚠️mentions of sexual abuse, Panic Attack, Hurt/Comfort ⚠️

Of all the decisions you’d made in your life, agreeing to go on a date with Shota Aizawa was turning out to be one of the better ones. Even after the awkward stiffness of the first few times going out disappeared, the man continued to be extremely gentle, patient, and kind. Many people looked for these exact traits in a partner, but they were even more important to you. With the experiences of your past like a constant shadow looming over you, even just convincing yourself to put yourself out there to try and meet new people was a difficult issue to overcome. So, finding a partner who could not only accept the fact that these traumatic things had happened to you but also help you move past them was even more unlikely.

Admittedly, you hadn’t shared the horrors from your younger years with your hero boyfriend yet, but you were starting to feel like you might be able to open up to him about it soon. The fear that he would lose interest in you and leave every time you shrugged off his affection had begun to ease away. He’d looked confused the first couple times you’d pushed him away, but not once had he looked annoyed or gotten angry. For a while, you had also worried that he would ask about your odd behavior, but that hadn’t happened yet either. Aizawa seemed to understand and respect your need for space and to move at a slower pace through the relationship.

“Today I will tell him.” You promise your reflection in the mirror one morning as you get ready for the day. Aizawa was scheduled to come over to have dinner with you after his patrol, and you thought it was as decent an opportunity as any to finally expose your dark secret.

You were feeling fairly confident about it until you turned on the TV right as the local newscaster launched into a story about a young child who’d apparently gone through a similar situation as yourself. As quickly as you can, you change the channel and try not to let the disturbing report trigger any of the memories that so often haunted you.

After convincing yourself that you’d be all right and that you just needed a distraction, you grab your keys and head to the supermarket to pick up the ingredients you’d need for dinner that evening. The harder you tried not to think about the child from the news though, the more it seemed to pop into your head. Soon, familiar images from your past began to consume your thoughts, making your stomach roll and skin itch uncomfortably.

“Dirty.” The word slips from your lips as you rush back home, avoiding the stares of people around you who you were convinced knew every single terrible detail of the memories currently rushing through your mind. You toss the groceries onto the ground once you make it back, more concerned with getting rid of the filthy feeling all over your body than putting the food away. You rush to the bathroom, eager to scrub every inch of yourself until the shame went away.

By the time Aizawa showed up, you felt more composed. You’d managed to put yourself back together after the shower and get all the groceries put away, hopefully leaving your boyfriend none the wiser about the rough day you’d had.

“Smells good in here,” He smiles as he comes in the door, slipping out of his shoes and tucking his feet into the pair of slippers you kept at the entrance for him. “Anything I can do to help?”

“N-no, I’ve got it.” You bite your bottom lip to try and keep your mind focused. The warmth and genuine kindness in his eyes made a wave of guilt wash over you, and your thoughts began to spiral. How long had you been with Aizawa now? How long had you been deceiving a good man? You shake your head, reminding yourself that you had every intention of telling him. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if he deserved someone better than you… someone less… tainted. Without realizing, your hands had begun to shake and your breathing become labored.

“Hey, is everything all right?” Aizawa’s hand appears in front of you to take your hands into his but you rip out of his grasp and back away, hot tears finally springing forward and blurring your vision. The shock stays on his face for just a moment before morphing into concern as he whispers your name softly.

“No!” You shake your head. “You can’t. We can’t. I’m just… I’m sorry. You should be with … someone else. Someone better.” You were too upset to form coherent sentences, and Aizawa was clearly confused.

“What are you talking about?” He asks softly, “What brought this on?”

You couldn’t believe his patience and self-control. Why wasn’t he getting angry? You could see it in his posture that he was holding himself back from rushing over to you. Even now, he was giving you space and remaining calm. This wasn’t the way you wanted him to find out, but you found that you couldn’t keep the truth in any longer. With a choked sob, the truth spills from your lips. You explain as quickly as you can how your body had been violated against your will, and how that made you feel too disgusting to be with anyone, especially someone as good as him. Aizawa looked stunned as he took in your confession. Then, his eyes were also filling with tears as you told him sadly that you understood if he wanted to leave.

“I’m not leaving,” he states without hesitation, “not unless you tell me to.” Seeing you standing across the room with your shoulders hunched and shaking as you continued to cry was breaking his heart. “The only disgusting thing is the person who did those things to you.” He wipes the wetness from his own cheeks before taking a hesitant step forward. “Please, can I hold you?”

The nagging self-doubt was still in the back of your head, but you still manage to force your feet to shuffle forward until you’re close enough for Aizawa to pull you firmly into his arms and safely against his chest. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” He murmurs softly while letting his hand rub slow circles on your back to try and calm you down. “And I would never leave you over something that wasn’t your fault.” The comforting words bring about a fresh wave of tears and you wrap your arms around his waist, fingers fisting into his shirt to keep him close. You stay embraced for a few minutes as your breathing calms down and you start to relax, Aizawa telling you how strong and brave you are the whole time.

“T-the food,” you mutter as the timer on the stove goes off. Reluctantly you pull away and turn to grab some oven mitts, but your hands are still shaking.

“Let me,” Aizawa offers and you let him take the dish from the oven and set it on the counter. Before you can say another word, he pulls you back into his arms and you let out a teary laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you all this sooner,” you nuzzle your face into his chest. “I just… I just couldn’t.”

“It’s okay,” Aizawa shakes his head. “You don’t have to be sorry about that. Please tell me I never did anything to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, you’re perfect.” You look up and smile at him so he knows how honest you’re being. “More than perfect.”

“I hope you know I feel the same way about you,” He says seriously.

“Even now?” You can’t help but ask.

“Even now.” He confirms with a nod of his head.

The confidence of his answer caused that small hope in your chest to bloom into true happiness. For so long, you’d hoped to find someone you were not only comfortable enough with to divulge the trauma of your past, but also someone you could trust enough to join in your journey of self-healing. Aizawa seemed to fit every category and then some with flying colors. Agreeing to go on that first date with him had definitely been one of the best decisions of your life.

[buckys-other-punk]

Christmas Lies

Pairing: Chris Evans x Assistant!Reader

Request: I was thinking of Sebastian Stan/Chris Evans x (assistant) reader where reader is originally from another country and is living alone and is going to celebrate the holidays and made up an excuse  that she's celebrating with someone and is in the middle of prepping her Christmas eve dinner and was caught red handed that she's celebrating alone?😅😅 

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: cussing and some cliche fluff (the title may fool you but yes this is fluff)

A/N: Hello my loves! Wooo another request, I hope I did this justice and sorry if this sucks. I am a little late for a Christmas fic but hey its still the Christmas season right? Anyways here is a cute Christmas fic for y’all (Merry late Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Years!) As always please lemme know if you wanna be tagged in my future works and feedback is very much appreciated. This is unedited so don’t mind those mistakes. 

Tis the season right? Yeah the season for stress and anxiety. A season where people had to find the perfect gifts for one another and hope that their gifts weren’t sold out. Luckily for you, you didn’t have to worry about that. Moving to the United States from your home country over two years ago it seemed pretty lonely, but more freeing than ever. You didn’t have any relatives that lived in America, but occasionally some would fly over to visit you. Sadly this year you were alone for the holidays. Your parents won a vacation to the Bahamas for the holidays and your older brother was expecting his first born anytime now. The rest of your family had various holiday plans and wanted to celebrate in your home country. So yeah, this year you were going to enjoy your own company.

“So do you have any plans for Thursday night?” Chris, your boss asked you.

“What’s happening Thursday?” you asked looking at him with confusion.

“Y/N, it’s Christmas Eve!” He exclaimed with a big smile.

“Oh fuck. Umm, well not really.” you shrugged. 

“Well you already know my plans. I gotta go to that party my brother wants me to attend.” Chris huffed out.

“Speaking of your brother, I got a call from him asking you to bring a date to said party.” you said to the man.

“Why don’t you come with me.” he said with a smirk.

This wasn’t the first time Chris has asked you to come with him to parties. Hell he asked you every time he was invited to one, but you always turned him down. He was your boss for crying out loud, wouldn’t it seem inappropriate to bring your assistant as your date? But, you weren’t gonna lie that the man was attractive, sweet, and you may or may not have a crush on him. He’s fucking Chris Evans. Shaking your head trying to think of a cover up of your actual plans for the night, which was nothing, and rejecting his offer just because well you don’t even know. 

“You know what, my cousin from my home country is actually visiting for a bit before she heads off to see her boyfriend in Hawaii.” you lied telling the man. Why were you lying again? Right, saving yourself from embarrassment.

“Oh, well that’s nice of her to stop by. I bet you’re gonna make a big feast.” Chris mumbled as he sipped his cup of coffee.

“You know I’m not gonna quit Y/N, you’re gonna have to go on a date with me someday.” he teased nodding your way.

“Yeah whatever.” you breathed out while rolling your eyes focusing back on your work. 

*Christmas Eve*

You were glad that the nearest grocery store was still open for you to grab some last minute ingredients for your dinner. Making a random stew recipe you found online that sounded pretty good and some brownies for dessert. Right when you got home you started making your brownies, from scratch, and once the batter was complete you put it into a tray and in the oven. You went to your room to change into your black Nike spandex shorts (since you haven’t done laundry and this was the only thing that was clean) and an oversized sweatshirt you stole from your brother before you moved to America. You weren’t trying to impress anyone since you were again alone for the holidays. Heading to the kitchen you began cutting the vegetables for your stew and boiling the broth when you heard your doorbell ring. 

“Please don’t be carolers. Please don’t be carolers.” you muttered to yourself crossing your fingers as you walked over to the door. When you opened the door you saw your boss standing in front of you wearing a black suit, looking handsome as fuck. “Chris, don’t you look nice. What are you doing here?” you said without any expression to the man.

“Y/N, you’re looking festive without pants.” he smirked, staring at you up and down.

“Fuck off. I’m wearing shorts underneath. Seriously, why are you here?” you asked again.

“I ditched my brother to hang out with you and your cousin.” he said smiling. 

“Oh thats so nice of you, but you didn’t have to come all this way.” you said trying to change the subject.

“What, that's ridiculous. I also forgot to give you your Christmas present.” he stated showing the nicely wrapped box that he hid behind his back. “Where is your cousin by the way?” Chris asked, trying to peek around your apartment.

“Oh, Mel? She’s in my room video chatting with her parents.” you lied pointing behind you.

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Where are my manners.” you said moving out of the way for him to enter your home.

“Thanks.” he smiled as he stepped in again looking around your place. “Um, Y/N.” he said.

“Yeah, what’s up?” you asked as you shut the door behind you.

“Something smells like it's burning.” he stated looking back at you.

“Shit my brownies!!” you yelled as you ran to your kitchen. You put on your oven mitts and took out the burnt dessert and placed it onto your countertop. “Damn it!” you exclaimed.

“You forgot to put a timer on, didn't you.” Chris chuckled as he walked towards the kitchen bar island.

“Shut up.” you huffed shaking your head.

“Hey Y/N.” he started, drawing your attention back to him and not the burnt disaster. “You said your cousin was here right?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” you replied, not really paying attention to him placing the burnt tray in the trash ans cute veggies in a pot.

“Well two things. One, why is your dinner table set up with only one plate. And two, your bedroom light is off.” he said pointing at the table behind him.

“Fuck.” you whispered underneath your breath as you looked up at the man. “Maybe Mel fell asleep?” you said with a shrug.

“You lied!” he exclaimed looking at you. “You sneaky shit! Why did you lie to me?”

“Because you’re my boss and I can.” you sassily said back with your hands on your hips.

“Y/N.” he said more sternly.

“Fine.” you said as you raised your hands in defeat. You walked around the counter towards your couch motioning Chris to follow you, which he did. “I lied because I didn’t want to go with you to the party.”

“Why not?” he asked, crossing his arms.

“Because. I don’t know. Isn’t it a little inappropriate that your date to a fancy party is your assistant?” you sheepishly asked averting your eyes from the man that sat next to you.

“Y/N, that’s a bullshit reason and you know it.” he cursed at you. “Tell me the truth.”

“Fine!” you said, taking a deep breath. “Honestly Chris, I kinda have a crush on you and I didn’t want to look stupid in front of your celebrity friends.” you shrugged looking away at the man.

“Now that wasn’t so hard was it?” he said quietly and he gently grabbed your chin to make you look up at him. “I’m glad you told me the truth Y/N.”

“What no snarky remark? No cheesy comeback?” you questioned.

“Nope.” he said with a smile.

“That’s it?” you asked looking into his greenish blue eyes.

“Yup that's it.” he smirked, staring at you.

“Hold up. I just confessed to you, my boss, that I have a crush on you and you’re not goin-” you started, but was cut off when you felt lips crash into yours. As Chris pulled away your eyes were still closed and your mind was in disbelief. Slowly opening your eyes, you stared at the man in front of you.

“Umm..did that..What just?” you were slightly panicking. Chris noted the panic. So he leaned in again and kissed you. This time you were aware that your boss was kissing you. Holy shit your boss, no fuck that CHRIS EVANS IS KISSING YOU! His eyes were closed and his hands were placed at your waist. As he began to pull away, you put your arms around his neck pulling him back towards you to deepen the kiss. The two of you pulled away, your foreheads still pressed together as you looked into each others eyes.

“Wait is that your Christmas tree?” Chris teased, still staring at you as he pointed at the small tree on the ground next to your record player. You leaned back and turned your head to look at your tree.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with it?” you asked, looking back at him.

“It’s kinda pathetic.” he joked, placing his arm over the back of your couch.

“Hey! That was the first tree I bought when I moved over here!” you yelled in defense playfully punching his arm.

“It’s cute is what I meant to say.” he chuckled, rubbing his arm.

“Whatever.” you said shaking your head. “Are we gonna talk about that kiss?” you asked.

“Why don’t you open your present first?” he replied.

“You're ignoring my question, but fine.” you huffed out a bit irritated. “Wait, did you wrap this?” you asked, looking at gift wrapped in green paper.

“Actually you did a while back.” he said rubbing the back of his head. “I was hoping you forgot about it and luckily you did.” Chris added chuckling.

“I don’t deserve whatever this is Chris. I didn’t even get you anything!” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

“That kiss was plenty enough.” he grinned towards you.

“Shut up, I’m serious.” you sighed and looked down at the gift.

“Stop moping and just open the damn thing.” Chris said, lifting your chin up and pointed towards the present.

“Alright fine.” you stated back, slowly undoing the elegant wrapping you worked so hard on. As you opened the present it was a box that said ‘Thank you for helping me get my shit together!’ You laughed at the note looking back at Chris.

“Open the box.” he smiled trying to hold in his excitement. You opened the box and inside was filled with confetti paper and a card at the center. You took the card out saying ‘I kind of sort of maybe like you a lot’ with a heart underneath. You looked back at the man who nodded signaling you to open the card. Inside of the card it said ‘will you go out with me? P.s. here’s $100 for you. No pressure;)’ A hundred dollar bill was taped at the bottom of the card.

“Is the money a bribe?” you asked.

“Nah, it's just for reassurance.” he answered chuckling. You laughed and took out the bill from the card.

“I went through all this work, wrapping a present beautifully, just to get one hundred dollars in return.” you said seriously.

“Well, if you don’t like the present I can always take it back.” he said upset.

“Chris I’m messing with you.” you smiled as you pulled him close to you placing a kiss on his lips. “I would love to go out with you.” you said.

“Oh thank god!” Chris exhaled pulling you close into a hug.

“I better be getting more money outta this relationship!” you teased as you were engulfed in the man’s embrace feeling the vibrations of his laughter.

A/N: This was so cliche i hate it lol. Anyways did you like this late Christmas fic? lemme know! Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! 

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