#until i decide it looks wonky

[frankenbridez]

the smallest silver tongue

[vivanightcity]

genuinely so delighted by this wretched beast im making

[killergee]

Wrote this on my phone so sorry if the formatting is wonky. First fanfic since I was a teenager, so pls be kind and enjoy!

Soshiro x reader fanfic where you're cold towards him so he thought you hated him but you actually like him.

Summary: Hoshina thinks you're only out for his position but turns out you might not hate him as much as he thinks.

P1 P2 P3

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"I am grateful and honoured to be recommended for the position of Vice Captain for the second division. However, I wish to be only Captain Ashiro's Vice Captain. Until then, I am happy to remain a platoon leader."

Those were the first words Hoshina heard you say. The first time he met you was at the higher up conference. It was decided that you would be promoted based on your performance in the latest Kaiju attack. But in all honesty, he was barely paying attention as he stood in his position behind Ashiro at the round table. It was one of those monthly meetings that seemed to drag on and on, and he couldn't help but try to stiffle a yawn. It wasn't like he had a say in the decision anyway, so what's the point of listening.

His interest peaked slightly when you walked in. He had seen you around the base a couple of times and had heard your name every once in a while. But his mind was always on training himself, the rookies, and keeping them alive.

He would be lying if he said you weren't a sight for sore eyes. Your gaze was strong, and you held your head high as you presented yourself to the higherups. One of those ice princesses, he guesses, as he shifts his gaze to look at the clock.

Who would've thought you'd be so interesting.

"HAHAHA! It's great to have aspirations," one of the higher ups laughed at your rejection, "too bad Hoshina has already got you beat. You want us to replace Hoshina with you?" A series of giggles erupted around the room.

"Not at all," you said, and Hoshina swears he saw a small smirk break your cold facade. "Hoshina is a fine Vice Captain and one that Captain Mina personally appointed. Simply put, when the time comes and Captain Ashiro needs someone else, I just want to be ready for the call," you replied with what he thinks is a bit of mirth in your eyes. He also could've sworn your gaze shifted to him at the end.

Your statement was strong, ambitious, and slightly threatening even. You've practically announced that you were out for his position and if he is ever deemed unfit, you'll be the one who'll snag it from him.

He swears that was the moment he was hooked on you.

Yet, it seems it wouldn't be easy to see that break in your facade again. Well, at least not easy for him. Somehow it wasn't until this point that he noticed how popular you were. According to everyone else, you were cool, fun, and kind. So why is it that you're always so cold towards him? He's heard your platoon absolutely gush about you to everyone they've met. He's seen you crack an unwilling smile to some of the younger cadets on the training field from a distance. Hell, he's even eaves dropped on you joking with his own squad.

"Hibino-kun, I heard you wanted to stand beside the Captain," you said slyly as you sat infront of Kafka in the study room. You were resting your head on your hand and eyeing at Kafka in a way that makes even Hoshina gulp. Though, probably in a different way from Kafka. Kafka flushed and tried to look at anywhere but you, "y-yeah I'm gonna try my best to do so... I also heard that you, um, were also aiming for Vice Captain?" He scratched his head a bit embarrassed but you only looked even more amused as your gaze sized him up as if evaluating him and his ambitions.

"That's right" you said with a mischievous smile.

"So I guess that makes us enemies for now, haha"

"No. Not necessarily," you sighed crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward as if to tell Kafka a secret. "You know the saying, the enemy of your enemy is your friend. So you and I are friends."

"And who's the enemy?"

"Hoshina, of course."

Well, isn't that something Hoshina thought. At least Kafka was enjoying himself.

"I guess he is," he said shoulders slumping, finally loosening up and laughing.

"Once he's out of the picture then we'll be enemies and I'm warning you, you don't want to be my enemy," Hoshina heard you joke back.

"Is that so?"

"Vice Captain!" Kafka shouted as he stood up to salute him as Hoshina entered the room. You on the other hand, seemed to be taking your sweet time getting up to salute him.

"Sir," you said flatly, all the humour you once had vanishing. Your eyes bored into his as if you were looking at an ant beneath your boot.

Right. Not easy. Definitely not easy at all.

"Do ya really see me that way y/n-kun?" Hoshina said as he walked to stand infront of you. "Why, you're hurting my lil' ol' feelings."

He knew he was standing closer to you than you'd like. With how your cheek slightly twitched, he can't say he wasn't enjoying this.

"I apologize, sir," you mumbled as if it pained you to say. "If it pains you so much why don't you go on leave? Take as much time as you need to recover."

"Oh? And let you take over my position?" He responded with a growing smile that showed off his fang.

"Or Hibino-kun can," you responded bringing back Hibino into the conversation.

"Um!" Hibino squeaked and both you and Hoshino snap your heads to look at him. "I-I uh... Nevermind."

"That's 5 laps for you, Hibino"

"What? Why I didn-"

"You want to do 10?" Hoshina threatened as a sliver of his eyes opens.

"No, sir!" Hibino salutes before hurrying himself out of the situation—scared he'll upset his vice captain even more.

With only the two of you left in the room, your slight step backwards doesn't go unnoticed by Hoshina.

"And how many laps do you want me to run, sir?" You asked in a way that Hoshina knows that if he were to discipline you, you'd pull your rank and find a way to refuse. Or perhaps you'll do it anyways and exaggerate his cruelty as a Vice Captain. So instead, why not take this opportunity to interrogate you?

"None. Just wanna talk"

"But Hibino-"

"Hibino-kun this Hibino-kun that. Do ya like the guy that much?" Hoshina cuts in, irked in a way he doesn't really understand.

"Negative. Just thought you'd be more fair," you responded flippantly, your eyes sharp and questioning.

"And who says you'll go unpunished?" Your eyes widened at that—but just as quickly as it did—your face returned to its calm and collected facade. Enjoying seeing the briefest crack in your composure, Hoshina started to wonder what else makes you tick and what other expressions can you make.

With a smirk he leaned back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands clasped behind his back. "Say how long have you been in the force?"

The twitch of your eyebrow tells him you're thinking, what does that have to do with being punished. But you still responded, "six years, sir."

"Ahh so a little bit after me. No wonder. I would've remembered a face like yours in my cadet days." He said with a teasing smile. You seem to freeze a bit at his flirtation and it might be wishful thinking but did he see a small blush? Before he could think about it any further you responded, "yes, how very unfortunate we couldn't have entered the force together. Perhaps things could've been different if I had," insinuating something else.

"You're really out for my blood aren't you y/n-kun?" He chuckled lightly.

"Nope. Not really," you said nonchalantly seemingly finding his shoulder more interesting to look at. Hoshina leaned down to cut your line of sight. Face tilted at an angle, he leaned close to your face to force your eyes on him.

"Hmmm this is no good y/n-kun. We're supposed to be comrades, but where's the comraderie? How can we fight kaiju while bickering?"

"We'll survive," you said exasperated.

"Say, ya know what? I think I've thought of the perfect punishment for ya!" Hoshina exclaimed with an almost boyish excitement. He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. "Since ya wanna be Vice Captain so bad, for your punishment ya have to follow me 'round and help me out with my duties."

"Like a servant?" You responded bewildered with his idea.

"Servant, slave, Vice Vice Captain. Call it whatever ya want. This way we can form a better relationship, which, hey, will set a great example for the kids," he joked only to be responded with your incredulous face that couldn't even bother to hide your grimace. "If anything, it'll benefit you too since you get to see what I do," he continued, shrugging slightly. "Maybe you can even find all my weaknesses and make a huge list to use against me to get my position," Hoshina chuckled at the thought.

After a beat of silence, Hoshina was moments away from taking it all back when you said, "okay, send me your schedule." This time, it was Hoshina whose eyes widened. He fully expected you to reject it. Hell, he suggested it in the first place because he wanted to see your reaction and how'd you go about rejecting him. Well, things are about to get fun.

His mouth curled into a grin. "Meet me at my office by 7am tomorrow," Hoshina said as he headed out of the room. "Get some rest, you'll need it."

"Whatever you say, your highness, bowlcut motherfucker," he heard you mumble under your breath as the door clicks close behind him.

Oh yea. This will be fun.

‐------------

It's been three weeks since you've been tasked to follow him around. Three weeks of teasing and getting to know each other. Three weeks of little change in your attitude towards him, Hoshina thinks sadly. He thought that he would've been able to win you over with this extra time together. Yet, it seems that he was the only one being won over.

He couldn't stop himself even if he tried. Your quick and witty comebacks. Your cold phrasing and comments that are unintentionally funny (or perhaps they are intentional and it's just your humour?). Your earnest efforts in completing the ridiculous tasks he's assigned you. The glimmer in your eyes and your attempts to stop a smile when you're trying to pretend he isn't funny. He couldn't help but be drawn towards you—basking in the light that you emit, the light you try to hide behind your cold facade.

He wonders if you could tell. If you noticed the glances he threw your way. If you saw how he lit up when you entered the room. If you could see how distracted he became when you sat and worked beside him. Shoulders only a hair's breath apart. So close that he could only smell your sweet perfume and watch your fingers fiddle with the edge of paper. He always had to stop himself from leaning closer until his nose rested in the crook of your neck—until he could breath you in deeper. Oh how he longed to close his hand over yours so that you could hold onto something more stable than paper. How he wished to distract you the way you distracted him.

Hoshina huffs out a sigh as he walks out of the captains meeting with the other divisions. Ashiro couldn't attend so he went in her stead—much to Captain Narumi's displeasure. He did take you with him hoping that after this maybe he could convince you to get ice cream with him or something on the way back home to base. He can already imagine how bored you were waiting for him and how that might higher your chances of saying yes. He remembers you were talking with some other recruit from the 1st division when he left you in the break room.

The sound of your voice makes him halt a couple of steps infront of the break room.

"Eh? No way you think Captain Narumi is cooler than Captain Ashiro," he hears you argue.

"I'm sorry are your eyes broken or something? He's so hot. You can't compare him to her like that. They're two different kinds of hot" the girl he assumes he saw earlier responds passionately.

"Sure I'll concede to that but not to him being cooler." That's not something Hoshina wanted to hear right after his hours long meeting. Leaning back against the wall beside the slightly opened door, he can't help but feel irked. He couldn't believe he's getting jealous of Ashiro.

"Ugh that's just cuz you haven't seen him up close yet, " the other girl responds. "But hey, at least there's one thing we can agree on."

"And what's that?" You ask and Hoshina can tell your interests has been peaked.

"That Vice Captain Hoshina is the worst of the bunch." Hoshina's eyebrow twitches and he has half a mind go in there and make the recruit do 200 push-ups or try to find Narumi and beat him into a pulp. He doesn't because he was more curious about your response.

"I saw you rolling your eyes at him before the meeting. It must be tough working for him," the recruit continues.

You let out a tired laugh, "oh yeah, he's the worst. He's got me running around like a servant!" You say with a sigh and you lean your head onto your crossed arm on top of the table.

"Really! That's crazy. I just can't get over his bowlcut."

"RIGHT! His stupid bowlcut. His stupid fangs. His stupid cocky attitude..." Alright, well. Hoshina couldn't handle anymore of this. He pushed himself off the wall ready to open the door.

"God, I want him so bad." Huh? Hoshina froze in his steps, eyes wide open. Did he mishear you? He must have misheard you.

"HUH?" The recruit repeats a second later. "But you were just calling his hair stup-"

"It is stupid. He should not look that hot with that hair cut," you ramble on seriously as if in a world of your own.

"Stupid little fangs. I hate the way he uses them to nibble on his lips when he concentrates. Why the fuck does he have fangs?! Is he a vampire? God, it's so distracting." Although you're saying all of this like a rant, Hoshina can't help but overheat in his uniform. Covering half his face with his hand he already knows he's red.

"What? Are we looking at the same person?!" The recruit exclaims exasperated with you.

"I think I'm losing my mind," you say running your hand through your hair trying to soothe yourself. "He's so annoying. Always teasing me and sticking so close to me. God I feel like I'm always a second away from tearing at my hair or tearing that stupid compression shirt off. Any tighter and he won't be able to breath. It's like he's doing it on purpose to show off his abs." Hoshina chokes on his own spit.

"You know what? M-maybe it's cuz you haven't gone on a date in a while. Maybe you just need to get laid." The recruit says with a touch of worry—genuinely trying to find any rhyme or reason to your attraction.

"Ughhhh," you say sliding down your chair. "Maybe you're right, I should get laid." There's a pause before you're suddenly sitting back up straight. You lean towards the recruit across the table, "maybe I'll ask Captain Narumi out."

NO "NO!! He's off limits don't you fucking dare!" The recruit screams standing up abruptedly and slamming her hands onto the table.

By the sounds of your maniacal laughter, Hoshina hopes you're only joking.

"Don't worry," you wheeze out, wiping a tear from your eye. "Your precious Captain is all yours." Hoshina hears the humour and mischief in your voice and he can't help but smile too. From the sound of your voice, he knows you're not done teasing the recruit.

"PLUS-" Ah, there she goes " Vice Captain Hoshina is much much MUCH cooler than Captain Snorumi anyways."

The scandalous gasp does well to hide his own snicker.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"That's just the truth, hun. We all know it," you say matter of factly as you lean back into your seat crossing your arms.

"You can't even compare someone who's only a Vice Captain to a Captain! Captain Narumi climbed the r-"

"Oh is being Captain all it takes to be cool? Well Narumi must've been a drag before he became Captain." You argue back defiantly and cheekily, clearly enjoying this.

"Well swords are powerless against a gun! He can't-"

"And yet he was able to be promoted to Vice Captain with his swords while some of us can't even become a platoon leader with their guns." Both the recruit and Hoshina gasp at that and Hoshina decides to interrupt before the situation escalates further. If only he was a little less responsible. He would've loved to see how far you'd go for him. Oh well, he has all the time in the world to corner you about it.

"Yoohoo! The meetings over y/n-kun- Ah, sorry, was I interrupting something?" He says with a grin as both your heads snap towards him scandalized. Well, the recruit appears to be scandalized. You seem to be mortified.

Your jaw dropped open and the red that was flushing your skin from the tip of your ears all the way down to your neck was so pleasing. To think that you yourself would be the downfall of your cool and collected image amuses Hoshina greatly. He can only stare and admire the mess you've become. Too cute. Way too cute for his heart.

"C-captain!" Your voice cracks. Oh, even cuter. "I uh- I, we were- you didn't interrupt anything at all" you say clearing your throat and trying to regain your composure.

"What's got ya all worked up l/n?" He asks with false innocence as he tilts his head, "were you talking about something you shouldn't be?" He teases with a slight lilt in his voice.

"Of course not!" Growing a shade brighter you add "Sir!" to try to save yourself.

"Well alright then, come on let's go, I'm over this place," Hoshina says nodding his head goodbye at the recruit and exiting the room. He hears you whisper shout your own goodbyes before running to catch up with him. You stop and walk slightly behind him and he can't help but revel in your embarassment. He wonders if he should let you off easy or see how far he can push you...

"So you think my hair is stupid?"

He swears he can hear you internally scream.

[blae-kitta]

Finished the Ford jammies figure of the pair, off this delightful design. Ford was certainly more finicky then Bill (especially the fucking GLASSES); Bill's post can be seen here. I also decided to hand make a candle for Ford's candle holder by dipping a wick into melted wax until the desired thickness, even if I know that I'll never likely light it due to it most certainly likely to burn the figure itself... That's why it looks wonky.

As always with Tumblr, click to see better quality photos. Very thrilled to have them both hanging out on my desk; a photo of them in their now natural habitat, plus more photos below the cut! I'll likely also do a process post for Ford since there are more photos for him... (Plus here's my master post of figures!)

[luveline]

Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3

i love u!! fem!reader, 1k

You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 

“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 

Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 

“No,” you force out in a mumble. 

“Are you sure?” 

It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 

“I might be,” you decide. 

Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 

“Do you?” you ask. 

“What?” 

“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 

“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 

“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 

He glares for show. “So serious.” 

“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 

Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 

You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 

Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 

“Makes you sad?”

He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 

You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 

You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 

“How do you feel?” he asks. 

“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 

“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 

“I’m fine.” 

He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 

“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 

“I’ll be okay soon.” 

“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 

You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 

“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 

“I know.” 

Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 

He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 

He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 

[seat-safety-switch]

With the ever-present rush towards convenience, so many sit-in restaurants are becoming take-out-only instead. Let's be honest: none of us really want to go outside and talk to people in order to get food. Just flip that app and bingbong® yourself a drunk order of fried treats for only $25 in fees.

Pizza Hut was one of the first to abandon the pull of large square footage, throwing millions of nostalgic red plastic cups into industrial grinders in a mad rush to stop bleeding so much goddamn money all the time. Today, those cups are worth $250 on eBay, so they look pretty stupid now, don't they?

The problem with all this is, in the time of our foreparents, it was real hard to fake the existence of a restaurant. If you went to a Pizza Hut, it was a real-ass physical building. It probably had not been copy-pasted together by a bunch of Taiwanese scam artists using Google Image Search fifteen seconds before you appeared. That was more of a Taco Bell thing. Nowadays, you can't be sure. Computers treat bullshit the same as any other kind of shit, so sometimes you'll be ordering from a completely imaginary restaurant. Feels weird, doesn't it?

As with many other cases in my adult life where I figured out everyone was just faking it, I decided to try and make some quick money. Papa needed a new engine, you see, and Slant Sixes don't exactly grow on trees anymore. With just a couple wonky Excel spreadsheets and a glob of code the size of Upper Tonawanda, I was in business with Switch's Fun-Time Pizza, an entirely non-fictitious restaurant whose address happened to be at the same place as a Pizza Hut.

Folks would pay me money, and then I'd quickly pay Pizza Hut to have a pizza ready by the time the delivery guy rolled up. Nobody seemed to care that the box said the wrong thing, and soon I was collecting fat stacks of money for doing nothing at all, just like the platforms themselves. This went on for a few weeks, fattening my bank account for slaughter. Until the first complaints came in, that is.

Yes, friends: it turned out that the local Pizza Hut had hired someone who wasn't very good at washing their hands. Soon, I was handing out big-time refunds on behalf of a massive international corporation, except I was doing so out of my own ill-gotten profits. My rickety, strung-together bullshit engine made entirely out of spreadsheets and chewing gum simply could not comprehend the idea of a refund, much less one for a weak human phenomenon such as food poisoning. Soon, all the money was gone.

Have I learned something from this whole experience? Yes. The most important thing in food service is to wash your hands thoroughly before (and after!) handling the customer's meat. The second most important thing is to charge at least a hundred percent premium over your supplier, to leave room for little hiccups such as this.

That's way easier to do if you position yourself as an upscale luxury restaurant, such as Lord Switchington of Canterbury's Refined Palate Pizza Parlour For Bourgeois Assholes Only, which will be launching this weekend in the very expensive neighbourhood next to mine. Hopefully their Pizza Hut is a little bit better at keeping the bathroom soap dispenser stocked.

[vrystalius]

Trick or treat!

My request is this: A y/n who didn’t know they can see ghosts and Kyojuro who cannot! On a scale of 1-10, how confused would he be watching his beloved suddenly have a conversation with thin air while they went out to buy a halloween costume? :3

Ghosts?!

Kyojuro standing beside you while you casually talk with a friendly shop-ghost. Either his worst childhood fears came true or you hit your head pretty hard. He wants to believe the latter.

Pairing: Kyojuro x gn!reader

Kyojuro’s eyes were burning holes through your skull while you were conversing with a polite, pale and dead fellow that was suggesting that a demon costume not a good choice to go with, given that any lower level slayer can get scared and attempt to slice you. You hummed and put that costume back where you got it from, but before you could grab the angel costume from another shelf, you felt a shaky hand grab your arm. Kyojuro turned you around to face him, his eyes wide and smile rather wonky. He glanced around the store to check for anyone close by.

“My sun, who were you talking to right now?”

You grinned and pointed at the floaty ghost beside you. He leaned over your shoulder to look at where you are pointing at, then shook his head. His usual booming voice got reduced to a nervous whisper.

“There’s no one here.”

“You can’t see him? Oh! I thought you could see them too!”

Them? Them?! What are you talking about?? Are you being affected by blood demon art or are you not feeling well? How much water did you drink today?

“I cannot, love. Let’s sit you down somewhere—“

Kyojuro carefully sat you down in a changing cabin and closed the curtain behind him. His hands were firmly resting on your shoulders. You couldn’t decide if he was looking deathly afraid or worried right now. You heard about his childhood fears a couple of times, how when Senjuro and him used to share a room they always lit a candle before sleep, or else they both wouldn’t fall asleep in fear of the dark. Surprisingly, his little brother got faster over the fear than he did. Once they had separate rooms, Kyojuro wouldn’t stop lighting a candle every night until he was 14. His fear of the dark and the creatures in it wasn’t overcome until he finally became a slayer and was able to fight what’s hiding in it, but Ghosts? He is still afraid of them, and if you’re able to see and interact with them, that means that they are real. Very real.

“Ghosts— do you see them? Are they nice? …To you?”

Kyojuro’s grip on your shoulders tightened while his voice got shakier. You placed yours reassuringly over his, giving it a couple pats.

“Yes I can, most of them are pretty nice. Yago, the one in the corner of our bedroom, he’s kind of mean sometimes. I thought you knew him, he kept talking about how—“

“The who in our what?!”

“I-I was joking, sorry. It was too tempting.”

Your husband let out a soft whimper and knelt down in front of you, holding onto your arms.

“My flame, my sun, my everything. Please, please let be bring you to Shinobu to let her check you out. I think you’re not feeling well.”

For the sake of his own sanity and not wanting to confront the slim chance of his childhood fears coming true, Kyojuro really wanted to believe that you are either joking, lying or not feeling well.

Overall, 10/10 is very confused and afraid. Will have a heart attack when you start talking to “Yago” in the middle of the night.

Thank you for requesting, I hope it’s okay I headcanoned him to be afraid of ghosts :,D This was very fun to write! <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

Here’s the trick or treat event 🎃

Here’s the event masterlist 🎃

[ouiouimochi]

Touch-move! Game for two

pairing: gen narumi x reader

genre: slice of life, romance(?), teen narumi

wc: 3k+

warning/s: profanities, manga spoilers for non-readers, no beta we die like (redacted), wonky format yey

note/s: takes place before narumi got recruited into the JAKDF. no mention of kaiju in this part. inspired by something I apparently experienced that I was unaware of until my friend hilariously told me (a better ending ig?)

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Gen Narumi was left on his own once more as his highschool peers chattered amongst themselves in their own groups. He paid them no mind, walking through the bustling hallways and up the stairs leading to the rooftop while absorbed into his handheld console. The male reached for the door handle and turned it, slightly wincing at the amount of light that greeted his face upon opening the entrance to the top of the school.

He strides over to his usual spot only to find it was occupied by a girl that he figured was his senior as indicated by the colored stripe on her uwabaki. She was staring intently at the familiar checkered playing board and its signature pieces

You didn't hear the rooftop door opening, nor did you notice someone walk up to your spot. Very immersed in the game of chess you were playing…

with yourself

Gen was curious as to why this senior of his was playing a game meant for two on her own. He would've thought you were quite the sad sight but he spectated you silently, watching as you moved the chessmen of both sides in turn. He eventually gets engaged as well, impressed at how you move the pieces as if you were placing two chess experts against each other— without having a bias as to which side to win either.

You thought hard about the next move, in a predicament. It was taking you quite a while to decide until a hand smoothly took a piece and carried the ivory knight to a specific coordinate.

You processed the whole setup, in agreement that the action was the best one at the moment. You were delighted, only noticing the person that joined you on the rooftop had crouched on the ground to impose themself in your game.

You allowed your eyes to trail from the unknown person's green-striped uwabaki before settling on the person’s face. He doesn't seem familiar to you, heck you think you'd never be familiar with anyone even in your year level. However, you can't help but think he was pleasant to look at.

“Make your move,” his voice rumbled, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You blink a few times before placing your attention back to the chessboard. You scanned the pieces before making a bold move of threatening the ivory queen. The unnamed boy comfortably settled himself on the side where the white pieces were positioned.

You look up at him as his red eyes surveyed the board. It was intriguing for you to see how focused he seemed to be in the spontaneous game. You may as well be delighted that another person has joined you in your lonely session, he seemed to be good at it too.

Clack.

You snap your attention back to the board before using the ebony bishop to take his pawn. The male raises an eyebrow at the move, making you unknowingly grin.

He scoffs and confidently moves his rook, challenging to take your knight. You lick your lips, excited to have a thrilling chess game with an actual opponent. You moved a pawn, confusing the other player immensely. You two continued to play the game silently, not even a word of introduction to each other.

Narumi stares blankly at the chessboard, gobsmacked at the turn of events. He had realized a few turns in that your actions all had a purpose— the unsuspecting pawn from earlier had upgraded itself into replacing the ebony queen he took from you. The gears in his head going into overdrive, he realizes that no matter what he moves, you'd be able to counter and corner him closer and closer to checkmate. His pride didn't allow him to lose, no it wasn't in his dictionary to lose.

You surprisedly blinked at his decision to move his remaining bishop. You furrowed your eyebrows, staring intensely at the board as if with intent to bore a hole into it.

The boy became impatient, “Move,” he had crossed his arms to tap on his bicep.

“I can't,” your soft-spoken voice echoed, making him realize this was the first time you talked. “It's gonna end in a stalemate no matter which piece I'd touch.”

Narumi gazed at your delicate face before evaluating the game, figuring out that you were right. A dulcet laugh pierced through the silence, sounding like the pleasant tinkling of bells to his ears.

The two-toned haired boy stared at the hand outstretched to him. You introduced yourself.

“Gen Narumi,” he huffed out, tone having no hint of respect meant for someone older than him. You cracked a small smile, not liking the stiff dynamics of this school hierarchy anyways.

The bell rings, signaling the end of your lunch break. You were slightly disappointed, wanting to play an actual match against Narumi. You started neatly fixing up the chessboard.

“Rematch tomorrow, got that?” you gaped at the male’s suggestion, secretly ecstatic that you found yourself a player to go against without judgment or underestimation. He helped you pick up the other pieces to place inside the board.

You nod.

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“No fucking way, I lost again!” Narumi cursed, not believing that someone as great as himself was capable of experiencing losses back-to-back. Although he won a few rounds and got a lot more of stalemates, his pride didn't allow him to have such a bad W/L ratio.

You giggled and sat up proudly, finding it amusing to defeat your…

‘Can we be considered as friends?’

You shook your head at the thought. Poking your tongue out when he accuses you of cheating. You ruffled his already messy two-toned hair, making him glare at you like an angry cat.

“A million years too early to beat me,” you hummed.

“We're the same age, you just skipped a grade,” he argued back, not liking how you were treating him like a kid.

“Fuck this game, I challenge you to a different one!” he exclaimed, tired of losing. He wanted to rub in your face that chess would be the only thing you can have over his head.

He takes out his Nimtemdo Sweetch, positioning the screen to be propped up on a stand. He gave you the blue controller, taking the red for himself. You tilted your head curiously, although video games were not a foreign concept to you, you were not well acquainted with them.

“Don't fucking tell me you've never played any other games,” he raised an eyebrow.

You look at him, a bit offended, “I have, actually! Go, Scrabble, Game of the Generals, and so much more.” You crossed your arms and harrumphed.

“All of which you play alone,” he rebuked, making you blow a raspberry.

“Hey! I play with people sometimes, like the nice elderly at the park…and…” you trail off, unable to keep up the confidence when he continues to stare at you expectantly. You scrunch your eyebrows and pout.

Narumi rolls his red eyes, “Not video games then, fine I'll teach you. It's not satisfying to win against someone who knows little of the game,” he flippantly said. Despite his brash comments, you knew he meant no harm at all. If anything, you found it cute that he was willing to patiently teach you how to play.

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“OI, Why aren't you doing the combo I taught you?? It'd defeat the boss so easily too!” Narumi continued to smash his controller’s buttons as he angrily barked out orders to you. You get irked, focusing on the boss you two decided to fight in co-op.

The male cursed as his character died due to being unable to dodge the monster’s specialized attack, leaving everything up to you.

“Go, go, go! Use your items for fuck’s sake!” he commented, scooching himself close into your space.

“Can you please stop backseating?” you exasperatedly responded, still focused on surviving and ending the fight.

“I wouldn't have to if you had stuck to the plan!”

“Oh my god, my skills were on cooldown to do the combo! The boss was also transitioning to its next phase, stop hounding me!”

Silent falls over as the screen showcases the ending cutscene, indicating a successful boss raid. You smugly look over at him, making him irritated.

“If you just stop being a metaslave, you would've responded easier to unexpected situations.” You tutted at him as though he wasn't the expert in video games among you two.

He growls(I can't AHSHDH I CAN IMAGINE HIM AS A GROWLING CAT), but otherwise stays quiet since you made a point. You made it clear to him during the gaming sessions that you were quite quick on the uptake, soaking in game mechanics like a sponge.

He feels miffed, as your mentor, when he can't help but notice how you were better in certain aspects of gaming than him. Another jab at his pride. However, he couldn't ignore how he's enjoying your presence and skills in different gaming mediums.

“Congrats on winning the judo tournament, by the way,” you caught his attention as he raised his eyebrow in question. You then dangled a small keychain, a trophy with the ‘#1’ engraved on it, in front of his face, urging him to accept it.

Narumi does not know how to react, he had already grown accustomed to not receiving praise or even acknowledgements for his feats. This was quite new, you even gave him a token of congratulations.

His ears burn pink as he accepts the gift. He does not allow himself to be caught lacking so instead of straight out thanking you, he hits you with a

“It's only expected for me to win the tournament,” he smugly huffed out, raising his chin arrogantly while straightening his back to look taller.

You jokingly rolled your eyes, “Confident? Play chess against me, then.” You challenged him.

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You were pleasantly surprised when Gen progressively improved in playing against you, slowly and surely bridging the skill gap between the two of you. He steadily gained more wins over losses recently too.

You furrowed your eyebrows, admittedly having a bit of a hard time. You zoned out for a while but noticed Gen’s lips moving from your peripherals.

Your eyes then lit up, before taking your bishop to check his king. You looked up at the two-toned haired male for his reaction only to be greeted with an intent stare from his carmine orbs. Confused, you tilted your head to one side as he pushed a hand on his forehead to mess up his locks. He muttered something too incomprehensible to reach your ears.

You didn’t dwell too much on it and took a bite out of the school cafeteria’s lunch sandwich he bought for you. It was quite delicious, actually — you could've sworn you've seen the limited promotion for this specific menu item. You shook your head and focused back on the board as he made his move. You smiled, a sign of guaranteed victory.

“Checkmate.”

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It was too cold to chill at your usual spot on the rooftop. You two didn't want to go anywhere filled with busybodies either, so you and your friend agreed to stay at the stairs before the entrance to the roof.

Despite being indoors, you still shivered, covering your arms for a little morsel of warmth. You closed your eyes before you felt a cozy weight drape itself across your back and shoulders. When you opened your eyes, Gen was already settling himself back to his spot. He didn't have his outer coat on anymore, finding that it was what he placed on you.

“Won't you be cold, then?” you asked, concerned for him.

“The cold’s nothing, you're just overreacting.” he rolled his eyes as he leaned backwards, his arms supporting him.

You can't help but smile, wanting to rebuke but decided against it.

“Thank you,” you gratefully said instead, knowing the male doesn't like to outwardly express his true emotions and intentions.

He wasn't making eye contact, instead bringing out the familiar gaming device and setting it up for you to play together.

You remember something and turn to your bag, rummaging through it, pulling out a small but well decorated package. You then extended it towards the two-toned haired male for him to take as he looked at you a bit weirdly.

“And what the fuck’s this for?” he suspiciously asked, eyeing the bag cautiously like a cat.

You rolled your eyes, “Just take it!” you urged. Excitedly anticipating his reaction.

He opens the bag to take out its contents as his eyes widen in surprise before turning to you in disbelief.

“Happy early holidays! Consider it as an early birthday gift as well,” you gave a thumbs up, but he shifted his body away to hide his facial expression.

It might just be from the cold but you can't help but notice how his ears were tinged a little red.

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Spring has arrived with the cherry blossoms blooming and scattering its petals into the wind. The front of the school was filled with a solemn atmosphere of tearful goodbyes among friends and the good memories made on campus. There were also students hounding other students to confess their dearest adoration for their crush and ask for their uniform button. You could've seen people confessing under the romantic blossoms if you squinted.

You sighed at your spot on the rooftop overlooking the front yard on your lonesome. Yet again, you didn’t notice someone sneaking up on you until they plopped themself beside you on the railings. You immediately recognized the messy black and gray mop of hair belonging to your only friend in this school.

“Shouldn't you be down there?” His question pierced the silence.

“I don't want to, to be honest.” you hummed out as he turned his head to look up at you, still resting on his crossed arms on top of the railings. You continued to watch the other students below hugging each other.

You heard a deep sigh before some rustling of clothes as Gen shifted his position to stand. He gets something from his pocket, catching your attention.

“Your hand,” he commanded as you placed your hand palm side up, awaiting what he'd give you. He unceremoniously drops a little accessory on it.

You inspected it, bringing it closer to your eyes. It was a very pretty keychain of an ivory queen chess piece made out of a crystalline material. It glinted beautifully in the sun as some refracted stray lights managed to hit the surface of your face. Gen might as well have had his breath stolen away right there and then, but refused to surrender.

You looked at him and gave him a smile wider than any he'd seen from you. You were quite giddy, more than happy that there was at least one person who was there to make memories with— to make your last year in this school more enjoyable than the previous years.

“Gen,” you called out his name so softly, the boy might have as well allowed his knees to give up on him.

“Thank you so much.”

“Why'd you need to thank me for a small, shitty gift?”

You shook your head.

“No… I mean to thank you for all the memorable lunch breaks of playing chess, of teaching me new games— of just hanging out with my lonely ass…” You spoke, perhaps his vocabulary may have rubbed off on you at some point.

Gen ran his hand through his hair, pushing it upwards as he looked away. He failed to muster up the words he wanted to respond with, being really bad with people for a long time. He didn't want to speak like he usually did, lest you'd burst into tears at his harsh tone even when you spoke with such sincerity.

Your phone rang, interrupting the moment. After picking the device up to your ear, Gen noticed how displeased you were getting each second that passed even if the call only had lasted for around 30 seconds at best. You clicked your tongue in distaste after the call got dropped.

“That's my signal to go,” you turned to your only friend, a bit hesitant. “See you around, I hope?”

He nods his head, waving goodbye when you start to leave. His carmine eyes can only watch as you disappear through the rooftop door.

You arrive at the front where the crowd has significantly dwindled already, only a few stragglers left behind. The sleek black car awaited you beyond the gates of the highschool. You continued making your way towards the vehicle but got stopped when you heard your name being called from behind you.

You rotated to be met with Gen standing tall with his hand on his chest. “Your hand.”

You follow as he placed the small item in your hand, it was a button— more specifically a button from his uniform dress shirt. You look up at him to ask but get interrupted by a beeping horn, reminding you to get in already.

You hesitate again, but end up having to go and leave the two-toned haired male. You get in the car, the vehicle immediately driving off as the damned highschool grew farther and farther from your visuals.

You open your palm and inspect the button. More questions forming rather than answers. It was more of a common tradition for the graduating students to give away their shirt buttons to either friends and admirers in order to symbolize leaving a piece of themselves with these people. However, you cannot forget the crucial detail you noticed when Gen removed his hand from his chest.

The second button, symbolizing the piece closest to the heart, was absent from its spot on his uniform— and it was right there sitting in your hands.

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i was supposed to be working on something else lmao-

will post part 2 someday when brain juice comes back

[chelleztjs18]

Somewhere In The Multiverse (W.M)

Scarlet Witch x Fem!MultiverseVariantReader! (Avengers AU)

Summary: After Westfield, as The Scarlet Witch, Wanda is in her endless journey to find her boys through the multiverse until one particular universe caught her attention.

Warning: None, I guess this is just something domestic with a sprinkle of angst. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/n: Hello! I'm back! I finally got this fic done after a while. I wrote the parts towards the ending when I'm down, so I couldn't really focus. Please bear with me if some part a little wonky or doesn't make sense. lol. Anyway, happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Five long dreadful years after Vision died and a guilt filled year after everything that happened in Westview, Wanda still desperately searches for her happiness. The longing for the happy life with Vision and her twin sons drew her to the Darkhold.

To Wanda, it’s the only way for her to get them back. Being the fast learner and powerful witch she is, she easily figured out ways to look around in different universes.

Universe after universe, Wanda sees different kinds of happy life her variants have with them. She can hear her son’s laughter. Different scenarios of life she dreamt about exist in another universe until there’s one that intrigues her.

In this one universe, no matter how many times she sees through it, Wanda only sees Billy and Tommy. They live happily just like in the others but she never sees herself nor Vision in it. The more she observes it the more she is drawn to it. Questions popped up in her mind. Do Vision and her exist in that particular universe? With whom do Tommy and Billy live? Who is the person behind their laughter and smile?

Wanda spends more time focusing on it and clues start to show up. She starts to see another figure with her twin sons, you.

Wanda never gets the chance to see your face. Every single time she tries to find out, she can only see the back of you. She doesn’t recognize you, your voice nor from your appearance. All of these surely drags her curiosity up to the surface of her mind.

With all the spells and ritual she learnt from The Darkhold, she decided to pay this universe a visit.

With an ease, Wanda gets into this different life in a different world yet seems to be familiar. She looks around and she figures that she is in the house where her sons live. Wanda instantly feels peaceful. At first it felt weird for her about how much she feels like she is home.

It's really calm and quiet. The house feels warm and cozy in her heart. Just like how she always dreams about even though part of her is wondering where the twins are. All the colors, furniture and decoration around seems like welcoming her home.

Wanda continues wandering around, her sights jumping from one spot to another. She even feels that she is attached to this universe, something that she never feels when she watches the others. Her hands start to touch around the couch, the coffee table and she lands her interest on one black shelf near the televisions. She found some books, a few of them are the ones that she read before. Her fingers keep slowly sliding around the lines of books on the shelves.

Another shelf on the other side really caught her attention. A mix of rows of movies and records on it. Wanda tilts her head curiously as soon as she sees a series of old sitcoms. Including her favorite ones that she used to watch with her parents. The urge she has inside her to pull the movies out and play it but she manages to control it and just looks at them with her glossy green eyes.

Wanda proceeded to look around more. She sees pictures on the walls, other tables and more shelves. A shaky soft gasp escaped her lips. She takes a closer look at the hung frames with mixed pictures of Tommy and Billy.

Wanda sees pictures of Tommy with his baseball team and a picture of him holding a big fish that he caught when he went fishing with you. She continues looking at the next pictures. She sees a picture of Billy winning his archery competition and all other random silly pictures of both of them.

Tears started to slowly fill her eyes. She can feel her hands getting a little shakier. Without hesitation, Wanda gently touches the face of the twins in the picture lovingly. Her lips quivered, a huge wave of emotions suddenly crashed onto her.

All mixed up feelings fill her heart, even Wanda herself doesn’t even know if it was happy tears or sad ones.

She wipes her tears right after she finds a few more pictures. Pictures that have herself from this universe in it with brown hair all smiling together with you in it. She sees you kiss her cheeks in one picture and she hugs you so close in the other. Some pictures have the four of you in it, as a happy family. Slowly bits and pieces of Wanda’s own conclusion start to gather around her mind. A little stack of mail on a table caught her attention.

“Y/n Y/L/N” Wanda mumbles under her breath reading the name on the envelopes. Wanda figures that it’s your name.

All of a sudden, Wanda hears something and it breaks her focus on the pictures. She is aware that someone is coming.

She hears familiar voices and suddenly she hears Billy scream for help. “Tommy, help me!”

“My boys.” she says under her breath at the same time with red wisps showing up wrapping around her hands. Wanda was ready to fight whoever dared to hurt them.

“No. This is why I suggested you pick a violin for the music class, not the Cello. Now, you can barely bring your other school stuff because it’s bigger than you.” Tommy replies with his straight to the point thoughts.

Wanda’s red wisps quickly disappeared and she let out a relieved sigh. A smile curves on her face hearing the conversation but right away turns to a confused frown after she hears your voice.

“Tommy, be nice to your brother and help him please. My hands are full with the groceries.” Wanda notices how gentle you talk to the boys and it draws her smile back. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you.” Tommy agrees in defeat.

Few seconds later, Wanda manages to manipulate the surroundings as soon as you and the twins walk into the house. Neither you or the boys see her there. Wanda hears Tommy’s complaining question. “Who likes to listen to Cello anyways?” The boys take off their shoes in random spots while you walk to the kitchen.

“Mommy does. So do I. You boys have to be supportive of each other, okay.” You answered as you put all the groceries on the kitchen counter. “Okay, Mama.” The twins’ voices overlap each other.

Wanda was surprised when they called you Mama. Are they your kids too? What about Vision? What happened to him? With all those confused and intrigued thoughts she follows them to their room, watching them put all their school stuff back to their shared bedroom but right after that they run back to the kitchen to help you.

It was very difficult for Wanda to hold herself back to not appear in front of the three of you and hug the twins but she didn’t want to scare everybody. She continues watching in silence every move you make.

“Mama, are you going to make chicken paprikash on Mommy’s birthday?” Tommy asks with a cute tone.

“Yes, I will, sweetheart.. We will celebrate it together with her favorite food.” you answer with a soft smile. Wanda has been too busy with the Darkhold and the multiverse and hearing that reminds her that it’s almost her birthday too. Since Pietro died, Wanda never celebrated her birthday anymore, she could care less about it. Surprisingly, what she is seeing from you and the boys drags her curiosity about this whole birthday thing in the next week.

Wanda spends the rest of the day watching you and the boys, thinking that the variant of herself in this universe will come. Wanda is really curious to see her but at the end of the night she starts to wonder why the variant isn’t home yet.

Seeing you put the boys to bed and you get ready to bed after as if you have been doing it by yourself for quiet sometimes makes her think of a temporary conclusion that your Wanda probably is on a mission.

Wanda keeps going back to your universe in the last few days, watching how your days and life go with the twins. The longer Wanda is around you and watches everything, the more she sees that you are very great with the twins. You take very good care of them and it’s undeniable that they love you so much. The boys are very close with you. They make you laugh as much as you make them. It warms Wanda’s heart seeing everything. Sometimes she doesn’t even realize that a smile always curls up on her face whenever she sees you smile and laugh. Wanda’s adoration towards you slowly built up in the last few days.

Sometimes you can feel someone’s watching or even feel like a familiar figure is in the room with the three of you. There are these unexplainable feelings you feel in you. You feel like you are complete again whenever you feel that presence around after all these years. You feel.. less lonely but you shrug the feelings off, thinking it was just probably because you miss your Wanda so much.

Days have passed and today is Wanda’s birthday. Deep down she is excited to see what will you and the boys do today even though part of her knows that it’s all for her variant, not her.

Wanda sees you wake up but she can’t figure out if you look happy or sad. It’s your Wanda’s birthday, why wouldn’t you look happy? Her thought starts to wonder. You sit up but your head hangs low as your hands cover your face for a few seconds as you take a deep breath. “Happy birthday Wanda.” you mumble under your breath. Confused, Wanda’s head tilted a little.

Your hands rub your face and you try to make a smile as soon as you hear running steps coming to your room and Wanda notices everything.

The crease on her forehead fades right away and a smile comes up right after she sees Billy and Tommy come into the room and get on the bed to hug you.

“Ma! Oh great, you are awake!” Tommy exclaimed.

“Oh good morning to both of you, my little monkeys! Of course I’m awake.” You tease them as you hug them back.

“Yeah Tommy. Mama wouldn’t forget Mommy’s birthday today. She already got everything planned, right Mama?” Billy asks.

“Of course! We gonna cook mommy’s favorite dish—”

“Paprikash! It’s our favorite too!” The boys’ voices overlap competing to finish your words. You laugh. “Yes, yes. Paprikash, it’s our favorite.” Wanda accidentally chuckles watching all the sweet conversation that is happening. You quickly look back to where you thought you hear the little chuckles. You could’ve sworn you hear a familiar sound behind you and again, you feel the warm presence. Wanda takes notice of what is going on.

“Oh and the cake! Will you let us help make the cake too?” Tommy questions you and brings your focus back on them.

“Of course buddy. I always let you and your brother make Mommy’s cake. She always likes the cake you two make.” you playfully play with their hair.

“Yes!” Billy and Tommy exclaimed excitedly at the same time and did high fives with each other. “Okay okay, now go take a shower and get ready for the day. I will make breakfast for you. After breakfast, I want you to do your homeworks first before you two go playing. I will let you boys know when it’s time to cook and bake for Mommy’s birthday okay?” You gently tell them and they nod before they both run out of your room.

Meanwhile you, you walk towards where you felt the warm presence earlier. Wanda nervously takes a step back when you get closer. Her brain was sure and remembered what she learnt from the dark hold that you shouldn’t be able to see her or know that she was there after she casted this particular spell. Wanda can’t lie to herself that she feels this little spark and maybe a connection with you. Her heart skips a beat when you stand right in front of her.

“Wands, are you here? I miss you so much.” you whisper softly with a very sad desperate tone. Hearing your sad voice got her thinking that something isn’t right. It led her to pay more attention to little details that she might have missed.

Series of activities you and the boys have been doing and how much fun the three of you have  draws Wanda’s urge to show herself to you but she knows it’s not the time just yet. At least not until she sees her variant.

The paprikash and the cake are finally ready and it’s still only the three of you. Wanda is perplexed even more when you and the boys do not even bother to wait and have the dinner together then proceed to the cake.

Her own curiosity is killing her when Billy, Tommy and you sing happy birthday without the variant is even there. You blow the candles together right after.

No video call or call? What’s going on? Perhaps she is on a secret mission that doesn't even allow a simple birthday call?

At the end of the night, you put the boys to bed. Wanda follows you walk to the kitchen to do the dishes.

You look calm at first, doing your chores. The house sounds a lot more quiet when the boys are asleep, soft low volume from the TV makes its way to be heard every now and then. Wanda notices little changes on your facial expressions gradually. She thinks that you look exhausted but as Wanda is turning around to go to check on the boys she hears you start to cry.

She finds you bawling in such sadness. Wanda starts to think that you look broken-hearted. Between sniffling and crying, you mumble but clear enough for her to hear. “I miss you so much, Wanda. I really wish you were here. I wish you never did what you did. Please come back.”

Seeing how hurt you are and how you mumbled in anguish makes Wanda’s heart ache and curious at the same time. What happened? Does it mean her variant isn’t on a mission as Wanda thought she was?

You start to sob as quietly as you can. Standing behind you, she feels the urge to calm you down even though she doesn’t really know you. Her eyes slowly turn glossy. Wanda can’t help it. Unbeknownst to you, she casted a spell and made herself slowly visible.

“Y/n, I–i’m so sorry for whatever happened to your..uh partner.” She said hesitantly yet full of concern for you as she gently touched your shoulder.

Wanda didn’t think it through. What she just did startled you. You gasp loudly and turn around in a split second very very shocked. Your face instantly loses its color as if you just saw a ghost, the ghost of the love of your life.

“Wa–Wanda? Is..Is..Is that you? No. No. That can’t be you. Who are you?!” You rapidly walk back to whichever direction you can just to get away from Wanda. You start to grab whatever you can reach and throw it at her. The twins’ plastic cup, forks, spatula, coffee mug, even a roll or paper towel. Her magic dodges everything right on time before it hits her. Panic and terrified, your instinct leads your hurried steps to your set of knives. You grab them one by one, and throw it at her with the thought of fighting for your life so you can go save the boys.

Once again, the red wisps do its work. It stops each knife at ease and keeps them frozen still mid air. One of the knives was stopped an inch right before her forehead. You see that she doesn’t even flinch. Wanda grabs it and puts it on the kitchen counter gently and then looks at you.

“Who the fuck are you? You are not Wanda.” you demand answers.

“I am Wanda Maximoff. Who–” Wanda answers but you didn’t let her finish.

“No! You are not Wanda! It’s impossible! My wife died five years ago.” you denied her and your voice starts to break. A little gasp breaks through Wanda’s lips after hearing what you just said but confusion takes over the surprised feelings in her.

The little silence of shocks puzzled you and got you thinking about what she wanted. Your instinct reminds you of your sons right away. “The boys.” You mumble and you quickly run. Unfortunately Wanda’s magic freezes you on the spot and you are floating mid air.

“Let me go! What do you want?!” you confronted her.

‘Tommy and Billy are in their room.” Wanda responds calmly. “What did you do to them?! Please don’t hurt them.” you said while you try to escape yourself from the red magic that limits your movements but it was all in vain.

“They are safe and sound asleep. I’m not a monster. I’m not going to hurt you or them. I will put you down and I just need you to tell me who you are and your life here.” Wanda offers you a one way deal.

Deep down you refuse to agree but it’s for the safety of your sons, you know better not to fight her or anything. You agreed in defeat.

Wanda gently lands you on the floor as she floats smoothly closer to you.

“Now tell me about your life here. No trick and no lies please.” she requested in a very soft voice.

You swallow down your fear hardly before you start telling her your life story. “You look like my wife, Wanda. She’s– she is the most amazing woman I have ever met. I was one of the scientists for S.H.I.E.L.D but then they transferred me to work with Tony and Bruce at the Avengers compound. That was where Wanda and I met.” Your eyes get glossy. Wanda notices your sad expression as she pays attention to everything you say but then you chuckle and smile a little talking more about your beloved deceased wife.

“She was a very shy person but once she got comfortable, she would turn into a very funny, caring and talkative person which made me fall for her. She is a great mother to our boys.” you continue as your hand starts to wipe the tears that slowly overfill your eyes.

“What happened to Vision? Where is he now?” Wanda’s forehead puckered as she asked another question.

You turn your head to her and answer the question with another question. “Who is Vision? I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“Vision, he–he was Jarvis and was created during Ultron’s attack on earth 616. Us, Avengers fought him and saved the world back then. Vision became one of us and that’s when Wanda– I–I meant that was when Vision and I got closer but Thanos killed him and uh– we have the boys, Tommy and Billy years after. It’s—It’s—It’s another thing that happened.” Her lips quiver shortly before she exhales a shaky breath while holding her tears back.

What Wanda just said really caught your attention that you shift yourself to face her. “Wait, what? Ultron’s attack? Earth 616? Did you say Jarvis was born? THE Jarvis, as in Tony’s AI? Thanos? Does this mean you are from another universe and the multiverse actually exists?” you start to ramble instant lines of questions.

“Yeah, Ultron. Ultron didn’t invade this universe? What about Thanos? What happened to me–I meant to your wife, Wanda?” Wanda took her turns asking your even more questions.

“Ultron happened here but everything worked out and there was no fight between The Avengers and Ultron in this universe. Jarvis is still Tony’s AI until now.” you explained.

“Tony’s alive? Jarvis still exists here? That’s why I didn’t see Vision here.” Wanda rambles out her thoughts to herself under her breath, connecting the dots.

“No Vision was created and yes, Tony’s still alive. Everybody is still alive, except.. Wanda.” you swallow hard when the memory hits you again, so hard that your heart aches. Sadness shows up in your face again. You feel Wanda’s hand holding you and it’s insanely bizarre that you feel the same comfort that you used to get when your Wanda did it.

“What happened?” Wanda hesitantly asks you with her soft voice.

“Thanos and his army came to attack. The Avengers were at war and fought them. I had a feeling that day, when I saw Wanda fly out of the compound with everybody else that I would never see her again even though she told me that she would come back for me and the boys.” tears start to fill your eyes to the brim slowly.

Wanda doesn’t know what to say when her mind comes up with a conclusion of what happened to your wife but she knows how you feel, she senses a great loss from you. Her heart feels yours aching. Her thumb rubbing the back of your hands and you continue your words.

“I was waiting and waiting and waiting for everybody to come back, for Wanda to come back. The second I saw Natasha and Clint at the door, I knew that—” you pause and swallow the lump in the back of your throat.

“I knew that I had lost her. Natasha told me that Wanda sacrificed herself to defeat Thanos and his army.” with that, you can’t hold your tears back anymore. You break in tears, sobbing your grief out.

Wanda quickly pulls you into her embrace. “Oh, detka. I know how you feel. Grief, loss and death are so hard to accept. Trust me, I know.” you cry even more once you hear Wanda’s voice calling you with the same exact pet names your wife always calls you with.

You asked Wanda more about what happened in her universe and her life. Wanda tells you everything from her childhood, Vision and including what happened at Westview. You both end up talking about everything all night.

Listening to everything that Wanda tells you while seeing her emotions through her eyes touches your heart. Knowing that Wanda lost her parents and twin brother just like your Wanda did brings out all the sympathy you have. It convinces you that this Wanda right in front of you is not a villain. You know your wife would do the same thing that happened in Westview if it happens to her.

“So, you were saying that the Darkhold and Multiverse exist? And you are The Scarlet Witch? There is only one Scarlet Witch in the multiverse and it’s you? This is crazy. I always have a theory that the Multiverse exists. I have been doing research and trying to find it so I can find—”

“Your wife?” Wanda finishes your sentence as if she has the same thoughts as you.

“Yes.” you admit.

“That’s what I was doing. I was so lost and alone. I just want my boys back and live a happy life with them. Then I saw this universe, the boys and you. I–I wanted to see why this universe looked different, no Vision and I didn’t see me either. I meant no harm to you or the boys.” Wanda’s eyes get teary. This time you pull her to a hug to comfort her.

“I understand, Wanda.”

After all the talk at night, the connection between you feels stronger. You agreed to let Wanda come visit to see the boys and you. Wanda humbly accepts even though you requested her not to show up to the boys just yet until you are sure and feel safe around her. All Wanda can do right now is to understand your request and it’s her way to thank you for your thoughtful decision.

Day by day and weeks by weeks, the more you and Wanda spend time together, the stronger the connections between you two. Wanda starts to smile again, so do you.

The hearts know what they want, slowly you and wanda start to fall for each other. You are slowly convinced that it’s time to let Wanda and the boys meet. It melts your heart to see Wanda’s smile when you tell her your decision.

_____

Billy and Tommy sit together waiting for you after you tell them that you need to talk with them. They smile at you right after they see you walk into the living room.

“Mama, we are not in trouble, aren’t we?” Tommy asks anxiously. “No, no you are not, silly. I just have something to tell both of you.” Tommy smiles again in relief after hearing your answer.

“What is it, Ma? Are you okay?” Billy lets out her question with furrowed eyebrows.

“Oh, sweetheart, yes, I’m okay.” you answered in awe while Wanda watched everything discreetly under the invisible spell. Her heart races with excitement and nervous feelings at the same time.

“Well, Tommy, Billy, do you remember the theory that I always talk with you two about the Multiverse?” This time, it’s your turn pitching a question to them. You clear your throat as if it works to shrug off the nervous feelings you are having right now.

“Yeah, the one that you said you are trying to find?” Billy asks.

“Yes, darling. So, well, guess what? Multiverse exists!” You exclaimed excitedly.

“Really?? Wow! That was awesome!” The boys respond with such a thrill. The twins are always interested in what you are working on and sciences. Sometimes you bond with them in the lab and the three of you always have a good time together.

“Wait, so it means there are other variants of me, Tommy and you in the multiverse?” Billy curiously asks you.

You can’t hold back your happy chuckles. “Yes, there are variants of us and also Mommy.”

They both gasp at the same time. “Mommy? Did you see her in the other universe?” Tommy gets closer to you as he asks you.

“Yes, yes I did.” you answered with a smile. Bubbles of joy burst in Wanda’s heart. Warmth spreads in her seeing their positive response.

“Does she look like our mommy, mama? Does–” Billy couldn’t wait her turn to ask you.

“Do you think she knows us, Mama?” Tommy interrupts her twin brother.

“Does she love as much as our Mommy does? Can we see her?” Billy chimed in with more questions. The boys’ voices overlap each other.

“Boys, boys. Okay, okay. Calm down. Wow, you two are very curious, aren’t you?” you giggle. The Maximoff brothers nod their heads rapidly followed by more smiles.

“How about you ask her yourself?” You suggest the idea as you tap their nose gently. Wanda takes it as her cue to show up. Their mouths slightly opened in amazement as soon as they saw Wanda.

“Hello, Billy, Hello Tommy.” Wanda greets them in a shaky voice, as she tries to keep herself together, holding her tears and smiling at the same time. Wanda walks closer to them slowly, trying not to scare them away.

The boys get off the couch and walk quickly to Wanda.

“Whoa, you look like Mommy.” Tommy comments. “I am your mommy, from another universe.” her tears roll down and Wanda quickly wipes it right before she crouches down to their eye level. As hard as you are trying not to cry but this view of Wanda and the boys really gets you. Tears escape the brim of your eyes.

“Can–can we hug you?” Billy shyly asks.

“Of course! Come here.” Wanda cries in happiness and extends her arms welcoming them in her hug. Tommy and Billy hug her hesitant at first but melt into the embrace a few seconds later. Wanda pulled them closer, cherishing every second of it with every piece of her. Tears escaped her eyes as she cried in happiness quietly. She never thought she would ever feel happiness again. Never in her mind since Westfield that she would be able to hug the twins ever again.

Wanda mouthed a thank you to you and seeing how happy, grateful she is, really touches your soul. You could really see the difference compared to how she was the first time you saw her that night. Right now, you could see how she really is, a devoted mom and a gentle loving woman.

The boys pull themselves back a little from the back. “Wow, you look exactly like her.” Billy comments in amazement as his eyes examine Wanda’s resemblance.

“I love both of you as much as your mommy does.” Wanda explains as she wipes her cheeks, a little smile shows up under the wet trails of her tears.

“So, you have your own Tommy and me? Where are they?” Billy asks curiously. You know it’s a hard question for her to answer so you try to stop it by changing the topic. “Billy, Tommy, why don’t you both show mommy–uh I meant uh Wanda the new set of legos you are building. I’m sure she would love to spend time with you two while I’m making dinner for all of us.”

The four of you spend the rest of the evening together. Wanda even helps you to put them to bed. Everything went well. The boys and you bond with her so easily as if there has always been natural connections between all of you, as if she is your wife and the mother of your sons from this universe.

_____

Almost a year after, Wanda still keeps coming back and forth from 616 universe to yours or sometimes she stays some nights there. You and Wanda have been dating for a few months. Everything has been great, the boys and you are getting a lot more comfortable having Wanda around.

Just like Wanda always envisioned before, the three of them often bake together. She gets more involved with the household and all the activities that four of you can do. Showing her around and how everything out there in your universe. There are some adjustments that she has to do but she doesn’t mind it at all.

Sometimes Wanda even goes with you to pick the boys up from school or comes to their theater school play. You and Wanda love each other. It feels like you have known her forever and Wanda finally feels like she’s home, with you and the boys.

Today is your and the boys’ first Christmas morning together with Wanda and it is a big day. You, Billy and Tommy have something planned. A surprise for Wanda.

The four of you are sitting near the fireplace with matching pajamas. You and Wanda smile while watching the boys open their presents. Laughter and joy fill your house.

“Boys, are you ready?” you gave them the cue. They quickly nod and grab a bigger square shape wrapped gift.

“It’s for you, Wanda.” you smile and tell her. Wanda’s cheeks blush and she smiles right away, followed by a little excited chuckles. “Aw, you guys. You don’t have to get me a gift.” she responds.

Wanda opens her gift and smiles. “Aw, did you boys draw this? It’s both of you, mama and…your mommy? Oh all four of you are in front of the fireplace and Christmas tree. This is really cute!” She asks while she looks excited yet confused.

“Yeah, they drew it and I reprint and enlarged it.” you explain while gently rubbing her back. The boys interrupt her thoughts while she is admiring the drawing.

“It’s us with Mama and you.” Tommy and Billy race each other to tell you about the drawing.

Wanda quickly raises her head and looks at the three of you, one by one slowly. “What?” she asks softly, trying to make sure if she heard it right.

“Yeah, it’s four of us just like how we are now.” Tommy added.

“Can we call you Mommy?” Wanda gasps gently as soon as she hears Billy’s question. She is lost at words. Her lips are slightly open, happy tears start to fill up to the brim of her eyes. Before she can even answer, Tommy says another thing.

“Yeah, our Mommy.”

With that the happy tears flow freely. “Yes, I’m always your mommy. You are my boys. Of course you can call me mommy.” Wanda pulls both of them in a tight hug. She closes her eyes, thinking that this is the happiest moment in her life after years of sadness and loneliness.

Little does she know, another surprise is coming. Tommy and Billy slowly get themselves out of Wanda’s warm loving hug and stand up straight, clearing their thoughts as if they are getting ready to do something.

To her surprise, the twins start to sing a song they made specially for her. She is astonished as soon as she hears the words they sing, asking her to move and live with them and with you. The way they call her their mommy in a serenade makes her heart leap. Happiness fills her like sunshine. Wanda can’t stop smiling ear to ear.

As soon as they are done singing, you ask her.

“Wanda, we love you. Will you move here and have a beautiful life with us as one family?” you ask as you look into her eyes and hold both of her hands.

“Yes, mommy! Please! Please! Come live with us and Mama.” Tommy’s and Billy’s thrilled voices overlapped each other as they jumped around in exhilaration.

“That has been my dream since I met all of you here. Yes, of course!” Wanda extends her arms, inviting the three of you into a group hug as a one happy family.

A/n: Welp, that's all for today peeps! I hope you enjoy this piece. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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[beenbaanbuun]

top hat and cane w/ arriba!mingi

words - i don’t know…

genre - smut

warnings - arriba!mingi, mean dom!mingi, degradation (slut, dumb), semi public masturbation, cane fucking (i’m so sorry), clothed sex, p in v, no protection, cum eating, choking kind of??, restraining kind of?????, cumming inside, please send help :D

——————————————————————————

watching mingi fumble round the stage dressed as willy wonka wasn’t exactly something you found yourself attracted to

the man underneath was a different story

you quite often fumbled under mingi’s sharp gaze that stares you down like he’s a lion and you’re his prey

but the top hat and the cane? you’d have to pass up on that opportunity

at the end of the song he comes rushing off the stage in his usual mingi way; all gangly and sweet and with zero evidence of the persona he’d just been flaunting

but then his eyes land on you and he straightens up before strutting towards you

you feel the cold metal of his cane pressing against your chin and tilting your head up to look at him, and before you know it your mind is blank

he whips his sunglasses off and folds them up, trailing them down your neck to hook them over the neckline on your tshirt

you gulp as you feel his finger linger on the fabric for a few seconds, just tugging it down ever-so-slightly before releasing it

“what do we have here?” his voice has dropped an octave and it goes straight to your core

you squeeze your thighs together and hope he doesn’t notice

by the way he quirks his brow, you can tell he does

if you didn’t have a cane holding you in place, you’d have dropped your gaze by now but instead you have no choice but to let him stare you down

“pretty little thing, aren’t you?” he mutters as he lets his face dip in closer until his lips graze against your earlobe, “a dirty little slut by the looks of it too. you’re fooling no one, sweetie.”

his words completely numb your brain until all you can think is mingi, mingi, mingi again and again

but just as he forces your mind to take a nosedive into nothingness, he pulls away

his lips are gone, and the cane is gone, and all of a sudden your boyfriend is standing in front of you with his usual wonky grin

“i have to go back on stage soon, sunshine,” he pouts as he takes his hat off and places it gently on your head, “look after that for me until i’m finished, okay?”

and you nod, because there’s no way you can even begin to form a coherent sentence when your brain is still uselessly chanting his name

“good girl,” he giggles as he spins and passes you his cane before running off towards the stylists

you don’t watch the rest of the performance

you’re not sure you’ll be able to hold it together if you do

so instead you find an abandoned room somewhere backstage with nothing in it other than an old leather couch

you sit there, letting your short skirt lift up as you do so

your wet panties press directly against the leather, but you can’t find it in you to care about the mark it will inevitably leave

no, the only thing on your mind is the ache that sits low in your stomach

you could ignore it, but the longer you do the greater it gets

your clit is begging to be touched at this point, but you don’t know if you should

you don’t know how long you have left until the show is finished, and you have to be out front again to great your boyfriend and pretend that his stupid willy wonka cosplay hasn’t sent you spiralling into the depths of depravity

but judging by the noise outside, you assume that you maybe have 15 minutes until the show is over?

and you can be quick if you really want to

skip the self-foreplay and just go straight for the orgasm that you so desperately desire

with a sigh, you let your hand push your panties to the side and you relish the feeling of the cold air against your wet folds

you whine into the empty room as your fingers begin to rub against your slit, spreading the moisture up and down until you decide your clit is suitably lubed up

your fingers focus there next, rubbing gentle circles against the throbbing bundle of nerves that had been desperately begging for some relief ever since mingi called you a slut

he was kind of right, though

only a slut would be so desperately desperately playing with themselves in a public room, with a door that doesn’t even lock, on a sofa that isn’t theirs

the thought makes you moan, a mixture of anxiety and arousal bubbling up inside of you and causing your fingers to increase their pace

you’re quickly approaching your high, but it’s not enough

it’s on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t quite push yourself far enough to reach it

you need something inside of you

your eyes flicker to the side, landing on the cane

the head of it is a bulbous orb, and upon studying it for a few seconds, you reach the decision that it’s probably about the same width as your boyfriend’s cock

you whine at the thoughts rushing through your head, but before you can push them away, your idle hand is rushing forwards the grab the stem of the cane and pull it closer

the cold sphere is pressed to your core before you know it, and all it takes is a little pressure before it slips inside with a squelch

it’s cold and big, and it almost makes you squeal as you push it further inside, but god does it feel good

it stretches you open perfectly and you were right about it being the same size as mingi

it pushes at your gooey walls just like he does, and when it brushes against the squishy membrane that feels so fucking good, you finally let go

your orgasm is long and hard and leaves you deaf for just a few seconds

it would be fine, except for the fact that it means you don’t even notice the click of the door opening

“my, my,” a familiar voice grabs your attention and you turn your head quickly to where your boyfriend is shutting the door behind himself, “what do we have here?”

he walks to the corner of the room where an empty desk chair sits and grabs it

you watch as he takes it back the the door, using it to barricade the only way into the room

“dumb slut didn’t even make sure no one else would walk in,” he grunts as he turns to you, stalking closer and closer until he’s able to wrap a hand around your slack jaw, “although i bet you would’ve loved it wouldn’t you?”

you whimper as he crouches down just low enough to wrap a hand around the stem on the cane that still sits inside of you

he twists it once, letting it brush against your g-spot ever so gently

the way your eyes roll into the back of your head just makes him bark out a laugh

“you really were desperate, hm?” he tugs at the cane once more, pulling at it until he manages to completely pull it free

the ball glistens as your wetness coats it, dripping down it slowly

mingi studies it for a second before lifting it up to your face

“lick it clean,” he orders, “you messed it up so it’s your duty to clean it up, right?”

and you can’t argue with that logic, so you don’t

you let your tongue dart out and lick a stripe up the orb before fully wrapping your lips around it

you cheeks hollow out and you try your hardest to maintain eye contact with your boyfriend

but as you dip your head forward, the hat slips and covers your vision

you whine and lift your hand to take it off, but a sharp stinging sensation rings through it and you pull it back

“i thought i told you to look after that until i’m finished, slut,” he pushes it firmly back to where it sat before, “be a good girl and listen.”

mingi pulls the cane free with a pop

part of you expects him to just put it to the side and forget about it for a while as he fucks you into the couch

but instead you feel the thin base of it press against your chest as he pushes you back against the leather

it travels up to your chin so he can lift it once more

and when your eyes settle on his, all you can see is lust

pure, unadulterated lust

the cane retracts briefly, just long enough for mingi to undo his trousers and drop them along with his boxers

and then it’s back at your neck, only this time he’s holding it lengthways between his two hands and using it to pin you down

it’s gentle enough not to hurt you, but there’s still enough pressure for your breath to catch every time you inhale

“now, my little slut,” he grows as he straddles you, hard dick slipping against your folds, “use your pretty little hands and slip me inside, hm?”

you nod, well, as well as you can with a cane pressed against your throat

“y-yes, mingi,” you whimper as your hands go to grasp at the heavy appendage that’s leaking precum against your already stretched out hole

“good slut,” he spits out as you line him up so he can push inside, “let me fuck you just as good as my cane did. let me stretch you out and and fill you up, sweetie. it’s what little sluts like you deserve, isn’t it.”

he begins to thrust rhythmically into you, hips smacking against yours with such vigour and desperation that it reminds you of how you were playing with yourself not too long ago

it’s clear by his pants that he needs it just as bad as you do, and when his pace quickens, you realise that you are the cane in this situation

he’s just using you to get himself off, and fuck that’s hot

the thought makes you clench around him and he grunts loud and deep in response

“f-fucking play with yourself,” he says through clenched teeth, “wanna feel you c-cum around me, sweetie. always feels so good.”

and you do as he says as though it’s law

desperate fingers find your clit, just as they had earlier, and begin to rub sloppy circles against the wet bud

it’s still sensitive from your little self-pleasuring session and you can’t help the way your hips jerk up to meet his own

if his hands were free, you had no doubt he’d pin you down, but for now all he can do is glare

“did i say you could fucking move?” he says through gritted teeth, although the whine that follows it undercuts the domineering tone slightly, “f-fucking stay still or you won’t get anything.”

and you know that isn’t true - mingi’s never left you high and dry before, and you doubt the big softie is about to start now - but it still sends a wave of fear down your spine

sure, you’d already cum tonight, but there’s nothing wrong with being a little greedy

so you focus your mind on keeping your hips glued to the couch as you continue to chase the high that’s getting closer and closer

it happens a lot quicker this time, with an already sensitive clit and your boyfriend’s heavy cock pressing against your cervix again and again

before you know it, your body is quivering slightly and your walls are tightening against your boyfriend

the sensation makes his hips still against yours, and with a breathy moan, he releases his own load deep into you

the pressure of the cane is gone before you know it, quickly replaced by the pressure of mingi’s overgrown body as he lays down on top of you

his hand is quick to knock the top hat off of your head, and you watch as it bounces off of the couch, landing on the floor

fingers lace themselves within your hair and begin to rub against your scalp in a weird, half-hearted massage

“you did so well,” he finally mumbles against your ear, “such a good girl for me, sunshine.”

you nod, tiredly against his neck

“you were hot,” you mutter, “m’sorry i couldn’t wait for you to get here.”

he just chuckles

“you’re kidding, right?” he pushes himself up so he can see you properly, but you can’t help but whine at the loss of contact, “walking in on you fucking yourself with my cane was probably the hottest thing i’ve ever seen. i’ll be cumming to that memory forever.”

you giggle

“now come on, sunshine,” he slips out of you and stands up onto shaky legs, “let’s get you up and back to the hotel, okay? i need to take care of you and i’m sure as hell not doing it here.”

he pulls his pants back on and watches as you slip your panties back into place and smooth out your skirt

“good girl,” he whispers, “my good girl.”

[ervotica]

Ooh! Ooh! I got a cute one! So we know how Liam makes wood carvings, he’s given the reader one and this time she wants to make one for him as a surprise.. but she’s not the best at it. Literally, she’s got bandages on the tips of her fingers, a couple splinters and cuts— and when he sees that, he’s asking her what happened and she tells him she’s okay and shows the carving to him

pairing; liam mairi x fem!reader

warnings; liam calls reader 'my girl' (it's a warning honestly. i've decided it's his thing now), pure fluff, light descriptions of injury

Thick fingers reach for your hands across the table before you can hastily snatch them away, upturning your smaller ones until your palms are bared before him. Crimson tinged bandages adorn the very tips of your digits, and a shallow slice runs the length of your palm, thin shards of wood lodged just beneath the skin next to it.

"What happened?" Liam's asking, the worry that drips from his cadence only serving to tug at your heartstrings.

"Nothin' bad, Li. Promise." You're quick to reassure him, sore fingers curling around his own to deliver what you hope is a comforting gesture.

"C'mere," he beckons with a playful tap, patting the empty space next to him on the bench until you relent, utterly lovesick and unable to deny him anything he wants. You traverse the length of the table, coming to a halt behind the hulking man, throbbing hands resting on either side of his neck. His pulse thrums under your touch, his natural heat seeping into your pores until you have the urge to climb into his lap and fall asleep. His arm comes up and back to hook round your midriff, pulling your chest flush to his back in one swift motion.

"Sit," he teases.

You press pursed lips to his temple for a chaste kiss before peeling yourself away, needling beneath his arm and into his side; you fit like the piece of a puzzle, like it's where you've always been. You have, really.

"You gonna tell me what happened, my girl?"

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, tilting your head to gaze up at him through your lashes.

"You know you made me that wood carving?" you ask, more meek than you'd expected your voice to come out. You busy yourself picking at your cuticles.

"Yeah?" he singsongs.

"Well..." Your bottom lip spills into a pout. It's unlike you to be so shy - Liam's terribly endeared. "I wanted to make you one of Deigh. It's a lot harder than it looks, and it's not very good, really. But..." Your hand disappears into your pocket and the fabric rustles with the sudden movement; then your closed fist emerges, clutching a mildly haphazard wood carving of Deigh. It's a little wonky in places, lines not as smooth and clean as Liam always manages to get them.

He thinks it's utterly perfect.

Taking the carving from your curled fingers, he smooths a thumb over the little dragon's face, crows feet crinkling affectionately. His dimple craters into the middle of his cheek with a beaming smile, and his forearm draws tight, anchoring you to his chest and folding you into his embrace.

"It's perfect. I love it, angel. Thank you."

"You really like it?" you ask, a warmth blooming and spreading in your chest even as uncertainty drips from your cadence.

"How could I not, hm? It's beautiful."

Your chin tips up to smack a wet kiss against the sharp angle of his jaw, arms twining around the broad expanse of his waist.

"You gettin' shy on me?" Liam mocks lightheartedly. You scoff, brows drawing down and pushing a crease between your eyes which Liam promptly smooths over. "I love you," he coos, pressing his temple to the top of your head. Heat rushes through you, white-hot and surprisingly pleasant.

"I love you, too."

[moonknixght]

Jerk [Marc Spector x GN!Reader]

Summary: Despite having plans for a date with you after meeting with his ex-wife, Marc seems to have suddenly gone off communication, leaving you to be a bundle of nerves until you decided to call him. Heavily inspired by episode 3 of scenes from a marriage. Word Count: 2k Warnings: Angst with no comfort !!!!!!!!! foul language, Steven cameo (that's a sweet surprise than a warning), no mention of jake A/N: Gosh! I apologize for being super late with this one,, this was meant to be a drabble but i got carried away lol. And I'm a little rusty with writing atm, so don't look at me if the writing feels a lil wonky. though, Constructive Criticism is greatly appreciated! PS; The ex-wife mentioned in this is NOT layla its some other lady because we love layla in this household

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

The drawn out rings of the phone was slowly aiding to a upcoming migraine as you paced between rooms, silently praying that you would get an answer to your frantic texts. A rather uneventful Friday night that you expected to spend with the person you were recently seeing, an unpredictably mysterious man, had come to an abrupt stop.

There was a lot you didn't know about Marc Spector; and that was okay, because it was just the process of 'getting to know someone' was, right? Sure, You had rambled your head off on the first date, all which he listened carefully; but with Marc, you never felt the need to push information out of him. It was like befriending an fragile animal that takes time to trust, but the epiphany that comes after is unexplainably amazing.

Growing from acquaintances to actually seeing each other and looking forward to spending time as a couple was unrealistic, which was why your entire relationship was so fascinating. The patience of talking things out was a quality that you both shared; likely being the reason of such a bond with each other. If anyone would listen, you would never stop talking about how perplexing that was.

As you both started building a line of trust, You came to learn that he was divorced and was in the process of sorting things out with his ex-lover— which, of course, you were fine with. And today, he had mentioned about her coming over, which you were also on board with. But with the plans that were arranged for today still being overdue and Marc falling off the face of earth, you couldn't help but feel.. jealous? worry, even?

It was exactly why you were frantically texting your boyfriend, questioning on where he was and if his ex-wife had taken her leave. The only response that you received was being left entirely on delivered, adding fuel to your already anxious state. You felt like you were just being extremely clingy— and that they were probably still talking.

Your gaze travelled to the clock. 15 minutes to 1 am. Holy fuck. Had you really been texting him for over an hour? Had it been over two hours since you had set your dinner table, waiting for him? The latest that Marc had promised he would be was by 10:30, so it was just utterly ridiculous that it was past midnight and he was still unresponsive.

Swiftly grabbing the unopened bottle of wine kept on your table and making it to the couch, You set your phone down on the coffee table as you took a swing of the drink. It was crazy how this entire thing had gotten you so riled up, but as much as you hated to admit it, you were head over heels for this guy. So committed infact, that you were desperately checking on him for the past two hours; that you haven't even had your own dinner yet. One last call. Maybe he'll pick up.

That was the words that your guilty conscious prompted while you sat in the uncomfortable silence, eyes falling on the phone that lay discarded on the table. Obviously, you were going to feed into your thoughts. Of course you did.

And much to your surprise, it only took three rings to connect to the voice that you were just waiting to hear— but it didn't take you long to notice that it came off in a growl, much to the contrast of the soft spoken tone that Marc usually carried.

"Marc?" "Hey." You let out a sigh of relief, shaking your head ever so slightly at your own frantic actions. Atleast he was doing okay. "Are you okay? Where have you been? I've been—"

"Good. Uh, yeah, but listen, it's not cool to, like, bombard me with messages."

There was a short pause where you sat slightly bewildered. before you felt yourself sink into the seat, like a child who had just been scolded. Even with guilt creeping up, You wanted to still defend your own case, which was the endless worrying you had endured for the past hour, waiting for anything from Marc. Just a simple notice to cancel their date for the night or even to say that he was okay. But instead, You were simply left in the dark.

"Because you were supposed to call me, Marc."

"I told you, I'd call you when she left." "Oh, so she hasn't gone yet?" "No, She hasn't. She's still here." Sipping from the glass of wine and setting it onto the table nearby, your mind was quick to rush into many conclusions, but you kept your mouth shut. Whatever they had to discuss must have been really important. "Isn't it late? How are you both still talking?" "No, She— She's in bed." An exhale could be heard from the other end, as your brows furrowed. In bed? Marc lived in a single bedroom, so did that mean he was taking the couch? But before you could even question it, it was like the male at the other end had almost read your mind, because he immediately cleared your doubts, Albeit, you would have wished he never said anything. "..My bed." Oh. Feeling betrayed and lost would be an understatement of how you currently felt. Confused even, to some extend as a steady silence began to occupy the call. You weren't quite sure how Marc wanted you to respond to that. Did he want to hear you weep from the other side? Or be upset at him? Maybe even yell a few select choices of words for wasting your time? But instead of any of that, pure silence rang through the call and if it weren't for Marc checking if the call was still running, he would've thought you hung up. "Hello?"

The feeling of being let down was coursing through your veins at this point, making itself obvious with the lump that grew in your throat and how you stiffened up in your seat. You weren't sure what exactly to feel, a floodgate on sadness and anger opening like it was a pent up dam that was released. You sniffled quietly, trying to bite back the tears that were pricking at the corner of your eyes. It was unfair how distraught you felt. Another audible exhale could be heard, before you heard Marc's voice again. You weren't even sure why you felt like crying, but it was clear that this wouldn't end well. "Look, I'm suggesting that we should take a break because this is just not.. Not working out right now." "When did it work out, Marc?" "Wh— What are you talking about?" "I said." You spoke, recollecting yourself in a suspiciously gentle manner. "When were you not trying to use me as a way to move on?"

It was his turn to grow silent, and that was pretty much the answer you needed. To think that you gave him the chance, thinking that maybe this time around you could actually be with someone who cared— There were no other words to describe what you've been this entire time. You were foolish. "Goodnight. Sleep well." You'd be lying if you said that you didn't still want him to come back to you. Justify himself properly. Say that this was all some sick joke. But you were also aware that there was probably nothing that would save this. Still, You stayed when he spoke up again, for whatever reason. "Stop. Just Listen. This doesn't have to be.. what you think it is, I just need time to collect myself and honestly, I've been feeling for a while that—"

The urge to laugh was overbearing, and you didn't hold back. "You're so full of shit, Marc." Anger was finally settling in before the male at the other end could even respond to your words, but this wasn't about being courteous anymore. It felt like if Marc had cared for you even a little, this wouldn't have happened like it did. "Own up to what you're doing, asshole. I know you like to evade your responsibilities but just for once, if you have any respect for me, stand up like a man and say it to my face so I can just accept the fact that I've wasted my time and effort on you."

"Okay, Let me stop you here before you say anything else that you're gonna regret."

"No, fuck you. The only thing I regret is thinking that you actually cared enough to be with me. Turns out, your only concern is keeping yourself occupied and acting like you don't give a shit about everything that leaves you. You're a selfish prick."

"Fine. It's over then."

"Good. Lose my number and Have a good fucking night, Spector." The call was immediately cut, and so was the brightness of the candle that you had lit earlier by the dinner table. The dimness eased your volatile temper, but it bought the dejection and uneasiness that had failed to show up during the call. There was an option for you to cry it all out, but for reason, you didn't. A soft sigh escaped your pursed lips as you rubbed your eyes. Maybe you'd end up bawling your eyes out about this when you were nestled into the cold embrace of your bed.

You didn't even feel hungry anymore; so shoving the pasta that you had cooked hours prior into the fridge and cleaning up, you tried your best not to think of everything that just happened, which was difficult in it's own volition. It was just a few dates, so you were technically the one in the wrong for letting your guard down so easily and falling for a man who barely talked to you. That conclusion stung a little, but it helped you feel better as you picked up your phone and the bottle of wine again— too exhausted to take off the gorgeous outfit you had picked out for the night as you opened tinder; trying to scroll away like you were gonna move on.

—

On the other side, Marc had made the mistake of pacing through his room as he made the call, biting his cheeks as it reached it's abrupt and upsetting end. Guilt did lace his features, but reminding himself that this was the last he would ever hear from you made the circumstances a little less horrible. Glancing at the phone as his thumb hovered over your contact, He heard a meek voice call out to him. Not that of his ex-wife, but that of Steven's— who had seen everything from the reflection of the mirror that Marc found himself standing before. "Marc.." The reflection called out to him, a clearly disappointed expression lacing his features as he tried to find the words to even begin expressing how regrettable this would be. Steven didn't have to elaborate, though, because in the few seconds that Marc met Steven's concerned eyes, he knew this would just add into the contrition that already plagued his mind.

Marc tore himself away from Steven who made a lowly attempt at trying to reason with him; walking back to where he had just been previously. It was because Steven knew, and so did he, that he found what it felt like to be loved again through you. But he was undeserving of it. With everything he has done and all the secrets that he hid, he only deserved the toxic relation he had with his ex, which atleast kept his needs at bay; a fair trade for all the arguments he had with her. You were right about him being a selfish jerk. Though it was for all for the wrong reasons.

[tryingtobemysterious]

face masks

you started your morning bright and early. Waking up at 7 am, you had class and didn't want to be late due to morning traffic. hamzah was still sound asleep even when you finished getting ready, before leaving you went over to his side of the bed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. as you began walking away he pulled you by the arm and gave you a kiss in return

you ran your fingers through his hair, "go back to sleep, ill be back later"

he nodded and closed his eyes falling back into a deep sleep

Your day consisted of going to class and then the gym right after. It was about 2 pm when you finished your workout and you knew hamzah would probably be busy filming a video, so rather than go home and be bored waiting for him to finish you decided to go to target and shop

After 2 hours of shopping you walked out with 3 bags full of items that you definitely didn't need, they consisted of face masks, new makeup and snacks you hadn't tried before when you arrived home you opened the front door and found hamzah on his computer, wearing his nap queen hoodie, black sweatpants and a beanie

at the sound of the door opening he got up and began walking towards you. he greeted you with a hug and kiss to your forehead. you smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek

“ there’s some Wingstop in the fridge if you’re hungry" he offered while taking the shopping bags out of you hands and placing them on the table, you nodded but began walking towards your shared bedroom, with him following right behind you

"I already ate before I came home, but thanks" you took a seat at your vanity and began brushing your hair trying to get any knots that formed throughout the day

as you continued your routine getting ready to relax the rest of the night, you began telling hamzah about your day and the things you bought, he watched you but didn't speak up until you brought up the face masks

"ooh and I found these super cute hello kitty face masks I think I'm gonna do one tonight" you smiled excited at the thought of getting to use your new masks

"we should do them right now" it was a bit of a surprise that he wanted to do a face mask with you, he was never someone big on skin care but your excitement when describing the sheet masks was enough for him to act interested in doing them

"okayy, let me go get them" you stood up and offered your seat to him

you walked to the table where he had set the bags down and grabbed the one with all your self care products

when you walked back into your bedroom he was sitting on his phone, now wearing a baby pink headband that replaced his beanie pushing his hair out of his face

as you got close to him placing the bag on the vanity he pulled you onto his lap with his arms wrapping around your waist. you began rummaging through the bag and cheering once you found the masks. as you pulled them out he grabbed the bag and placed it on the floor, giving you more room

"you first" you told him now adjusting yourself so that you could face him, with his hands still on your waist you smiled at him as he looked at you with adoration in his eyes

you opened the packaging and then began moving the mask to his face, he closed his eyes. you were completely concentrated making sure the placement wasn't wonky

"open your eyes" he opened them finding you smiling brightly in his face happy with how goofy but cute he looked, he smiled back at you although more restricted trying not to move the mask

you move your head out of the way so that he could look into the mirror and see himself

"oh my god" he laughed

then he moved to face you "your turn"

you nodded and gave him the packaging giving him complete control of the process

"close your eyes" you listened and jumped slightly at the cold mask touching your face, all you felt was his finger smoothing out the mask making sure it sat correctly

"okay open" he spoke

you did and turned to the mirror now looking at how goofy you both looked, you giggled and reached for his phone that he left on the vanity opening the camera and beginning to take selfies

once you finished taking your pictures and filming tiktoks you guys moved to the bed now cuddling while watching a random episode of impractical jokers

even with the episode playing you were distracted reading the comments of the tiktok you had posted of both you and hamzah, everyone jokingly clowning him for being down bad enough to wear a hello kitty face mask, he payed no mind too focused on the punishment the guys were giving murr

[buckymorelikefuckme]

a shore thing

bucky barnes x fem reader

i decided to write it hehe

a/n: any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is encouraged & welcomed :) xoxo

Bucky calls your name for the umpteenth time, beyond exasperated as you stumble away, giggling uncontrollably as you evade capture. He's hardly tipsy anymore, having decided to nurse a single beer for the last couple hours when he noticed how heavy you were drinking. Somebody needed to be responsible, he told himself. Even Steve was letting loose more than usual. But, to be fair, they were all on vacation.

“Guys, the taxis are here,” Nat announces, yet again, leaning heavily against one of said vehicles. “Bucky, we gotta go.”

“I’m trying my best here,” he replies. Although, that's not entirely true. “Someone should've cut her off ages ago.”

“Boooooo,” you heckle as you run past him.

Bucky sighs heavily. “Fine. You can stay here by yourself.”

You pause abruptly, almost tripping over your own feet, but you catch yourself before you face-plant into the gravel. “You're leaving me?” you ask in a pitiful tone.

“Yup.” Bucky turns and takes a few steps away, hearing you whine in protest. “Have fun.”

“Noooo, wait!”

Your uneven steps come closer and closer to Bucky and as soon as he gauges you're within arm’s reach he spins around with a smirk. It makes you lurch to a stop, gasping as it dawns on you.

“Betrayal!” you shout, pointing an accusatory finger at him. You try to take off running again, but Bucky is quicker. You're swooped up into a fireman’s carry before you even register your feet leaving the ground. “Ack! Put me down, you absolute caveman!”

Sam sticks his head out of the taxi. “There's room in this one.”

Bucky steers his steps that way, feeling your tiny fists beating his back the whole way, and plops you into the open seat. You let out a cute oof that he ignores as he tries to latch the seatbelt. You're a squirmy little shit though, and he soon finds that the only way he’ll be able to get the group back to the hotel is to enter the taxi himself and pull you into his lap. He quickly shuts the door and finally latches the seatbelt around the both of you, telling the driver to go.

Sam shakes his head in amusement in the seat beside Bucky. “You're seriously the only one who can rally that firecracker of a woman.”

“Hey!” you object with a pout. “I'm drunkies, not deaf. I can still hear you.”

You and Sam begin bickering and Bucky rolls his eyes, but he doesn't do anything to interfere. He's too busy trying to think about literally anything else other than the ginormous mistake he made by placing you on his lap. You, the person he's been in love with for far too long now, who has absolutely no clue of his feelings and sends constant mixed signals.

There are days he's sure you feel the same with the way you look at him, but then the next day you go out of your way to make sure he knows the two of you are just friends. He's losing his fucking mind. He doesn't know if he should tell you how he feels or try to move on.

You're wiggling suddenly, body jostling atop Bucky’s and his mind is forced to return to the present, only to see you and Sam slap-fighting like children.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” he addresses the driver, “I swear they're actually adults when they're not three sheets to the wind.”

The driver waves off the apology with a chuckle. The fight ends with you pinching Sam’s nipple, his cry of pain and outrage making you giggle wildly and throw your head back onto Bucky’s shoulder. After you catch your breath you sit up and wiggle some more until you're sitting sideways and can look at Bucky. Your eyes are glassy and your smile is sly and a touch wonky, and Bucky still thinks you're the cutest, sexiest woman he's ever known.

“Why don't you like me for real?”

The taxi is uncomfortably quiet. Bucky blinks a few times, shifting his gaze to Sam, who’s suddenly very interested in the passing streetlights and palm trees outside the window. Traitor, Bucky thinks. With no help from his supposed friend, Bucky looks back to you.

He clears his throat. “I do like you.”

“No,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “I mean like, like me like me. Like, more.”

Bucky is silent again, his mind whirling with a million questions–the biggest one being what the fuck?

“I'm not sure what you mean,” he says carefully. He hopes playing dumb will work in deterring the conversation, but he should've known better.

“You always just joke about it, but you never mean it. Always get my hopes up.”

“What are you talking about?” he blurts, truly flabbergasted, but he cuts you off before you can reply. “No, don't answer that. You're drunk, okay? You don't know what you're saying.”

You poke his cheek roughly, pouting. “I just want you to like me back, Buck. Wanna kiss you whenever I want.”

Bucky swallows thickly, unable to take his eyes away from yours as you lean in closer.

“Don't you wanna kiss me?” you question, reaching up you play with the hairs at the nape of his neck. “Can I kiss you, Bucky?”

Your lips graze his, a feather-light touch, and he exhales shakily. Of fucking course he wants to kiss you. He's wanted nothing else for the last year. But he doesn't want it like this. He says your name, voice low in warning. You either don't hear him or you don't care.

Bucky’s eyes flutter closed as you continue pressing light kisses to his lips, the corner of his mouth, his chin, along his jaw. He fists his hands where they rest on either side of you, praying for the will to remain strong.

“You're drunk,” he repeats, a last ditch effort in getting you to stop, but even he can hear how weak the protest is.

“I still know what I want, what I feel.” You brush your nose against his. “I want you.”

Sam coughs pointedly beside both of you. “We’re here.”

Bucky is quick to unlatch the seatbelt and help you out of the car. Nat walks over and grabs your hand, Steve walking leisurely behind her.

“Let's go to bed, please,” she begs as she drags you with her.

You begin whining again, reminding Bucky of your inebriated state. He shouldn't have let you kiss him. You're not going to remember any of this tomorrow. Guilt punches him in the gut. He's so fucking weak when it comes to you.

“I wanna sleep with Bucky,” you complain as you resist.

Natasha squawks. “What?!” Her eyes are as wide as saucers, flicking back and forth from you and Bucky. Sam fails to hide his snort.

“His bed is bigger,” you explain, “You take up too much space.”

Natasha gasps. “How dare you!”

You turn to Bucky with pleading eyes. “Bucky, please let me sleep with you.”

“I… I'm not sure that's a good idea,” he replies.

You stomp your foot. “Pleeeease?” Your pout is lethal. “I promise I won't take up too much space.”

Sam puts his hand over Nat’s mouth before she can start yelling, doing his best to frogmarch her into the hotel so they don't cause a disturbance. Steve follows languidly, which is the sign that he's quickly coming down from his drunken high and will likely crash the moment his head hits the pillow.

“You should just sleep in your room with Nat,” Bucky advises.

“I don't wanna sleep with her,” you say, stepping back into Bucky’s space. One of your hands grasps his shirt, the other trailing across his chest. He fights the shiver threatening to run down his spine. “I wanna cuddle you.”

You look up at him through your lashes and Bucky knows he's lost. He sighs. You grin and giggle, grabbing his hand to lead him inside the hotel. He's quiet the whole ride up in the elevator. Your head is resting on his shoulder, humming along to whatever song is playing in your head. You’re still holding his hand.

When you're both standing in front of his room door, Bucky pauses, about to try one last time to get you to go two rooms down to the one you're supposed to be sharing with Nat, but you snatch the key card out of his hand and open the door before a word can leave his mouth. He doesn't trust you to be alone right now, and with Sam babysitting Nat and Steve probably snoring away in his own room, Bucky accepts his fate. He enters the room, closing the door with resignation.

“Ugh, god, these heels are the worst,” you grumble as you trip your way over to sit on the bed. You fight with the small buckle before making a noise of complaint. “Buckyyy…”

“Jesus,” he mutters, huffing as he walks to you.

He kneels in front of you and carefully takes your shoes off. You hum, pleased, once your feet are free, wiggling your toes.

“Why do you wear them if you hate them so much?” he mumbles.

“Because they make my legs and ass look fantastic, duh.”

Well. That's fair, Bucky supposes.

“Can you unzip me now?”

Fuck. Bucky chokes on nothing.

“Unzip you? What are you planning on sleeping in? Your pajamas are in your room,” he points out.

“Can't I borrow one of your shirts?” you ask, blinking innocent eyes up at him.

He doesn't trust it one bit.

“Please, Bucky? My dress won't be comfortable.”

Your pout makes yet another appearance. He doesn't bother pointing out that you wouldn't have this problem if you went to your own room. You'd ignore him anyway.

“Fine,” he grumbles. He rifles through his bag to find a shirt for you, grabbing pajamas for himself while he's at it. “I'll go change in the bathroom.”

He turns to head that way, but you stop him.

“My dress,” you remind him, spinning around and pointing at the zip.

Bucky's pretty sure you could do this by yourself, but he's just ready to go to bed at this point, so he’ll do whatever he has to to get there. He tries not to put too much thought into the action, but his mind can't help but wander, imagining unzipping your dress with different intentions. The more skin that is revealed to him, the more his breathing picks up. He takes note that you didn't wear a bra with this dress, which makes him realize you'll be wearing his shirt with only your underwear beneath it. He curses mentally.

He steps away like he's been burned once the zipper reaches the bottom. “There you go,” he says, voice gruff.

He doesn't wait for your response, quickly escaping into the bathroom before anything else can be asked of him. It doesn't take Bucky long to change his clothes, but he still lingers in the small space to gather his wits, taking his time as he brushes his teeth, and even splashes some cold water on his face. He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment.

“She’ll forget all of this by morning,” he assures himself.

He's not fond of the way that statement makes his stomach twist.

When he leaves the bathroom, he finds your dress pooled on the floor in the same spot you stood as he unzipped it. You're standing next to the bed, fidgeting with the hem of Bucky’s shirt that hangs off your small frame. He raises a quizzical brow.

“I don't know which side you prefer,” you say, unsure.

Bucky feels himself soften at your expression. “I'm good either way.”

You dart for the left side, lifting the comforter and sheets and snuggling underneath them. Bucky's lips twitch, but he resists smiling.

“C’mon, Buck, I want cuddles,” you entice, patting the spot beside you exaggeratedly.

He only hesitates for a split second. It's late and exhaustion is settling in his bones. He’ll worry about consequences in the morning.

You waste no time in invading his space once he's in the bed. You nudge his arm until he lifts it, worming your way under it and placing your head on his chest, your own arm slung over his waist. Bucky goes still, holding his breath until you get comfortable. Slowly, he lets his arm fall across your back, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

“Bucky?” you whisper.

“Hm?”

You nuzzle into his pec. “Love you.”

Bucky's eyes snap open then. His heart begins hammering in his chest and he prays that you're close enough to sleep to not notice.

“Goodnight,” he rasps after a minute passes by.

Your only reply is a light snore. Bucky feels his heart crack in his chest.

~

The next morning, Bucky lies awake, staring at the ceiling. He's not sure exactly how much sleep he got, but it wasn't a lot. You only got clingier as you slept, practically wrapping your whole body around him.

Bucky is a weak, weak man.

Sunlight begins peeking through the curtains, eventually finding its way to the bed and across your closed eyes. A frown forms between your brows and he almost smoothes it with his thumb. The only reason he stops himself is because you groan and turn away before he can.

“Turn it off,” you croak.

“The sun?” he retorts with a laugh.

“Yes,” you reply derisively. “Kick its ass for waking me up.”

Bucky smiles to himself. “Whatever you want, my love.”

It feels like the room freezes in time after the endearment escapes him. With a jolt, you sit up and face him. Bucky can't read your expression, but that's mostly because he's doing his best to look anywhere but your face.

“Seriously?” you gripe. “You're still going to poke fun about that kind of shit even after what I said last night?”

That gets his attention pretty easily. He meets your gaze and hates the dejected look on your face.

“What–what are you talking about?” he questions, thrown.

Your chin wobbles slightly before you scoff, whipping the comforter off your body as you attempt to leave the bed, but Bucky sits up and grabs your wrist to stop you.

“Wait–”

“Let go of me,” you demand, refusing to look at him.

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on,” he replies firmly.

You turn to him with a glare. “You're still joking about my feelings for you, even though I made it perfectly clear how I felt last night.”

“Felt? You… you don't feel the same anymore?” He's grasping for straws here. “I thought–I mean, I didn't think you were serious. You were drunk, I…”

“It doesn't matter if I still feel the same or not,” you reply, the fight leaving your body.

“Yes, it does!” he exclaims. “God, of course it fucking matters. If you have feelings for me, I need to know.”

“Have I not made it abundantly clear already?!” you retort. “If you're that fucking dense, then here you go: I'm fucking in love with you, you big, stupid, gigantic ass–”

He cuts you off by dragging your body to his and kissing you. You make a sound of shock, but you don't push him away, so he deepens the kiss, tilting his head and flicking his tongue at the seam of your lips. You open for him with a gasp, your tongue meeting his and making you both moan. He pulls away, chest heaving.

“We're both stupid,” he declares. “I'm in love with you too. I thought you were the one not taking it seriously.”

Your dazed expression begins clearing and realization sets in. “Oh my god,” you mumble as you yank him back into a kiss that has him reeling.

“Do you know,” he starts between kisses, “how fucking hard it was—to be a gentleman last night?”

You giggle. “I was hoping you wouldn't be a gentleman.”

Bucky curses, manhandling you until you're flat on your back. “That can be arranged.”

“Promises, promises,” you goad, biting your lip.

“Exactly,” he replies, lips tugging into a smirk.

~

Needless to say, the two of you have to put up with merciless teasing for the rest of the trip… But it's worth it.

[snippychicke]

Poppy Seeds --Part Two

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.

Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)

Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)

@twistedcece wanted tagged, anyone else?

Four: Water

It did end up raining later that afternoon. You had found Ollie a fresh change of clothes and had been showing the four around the farm. Thankfully, the day was warm enough that the cold droplets weren’t going to chill anyone too much, though Ollie squeaked as soon as the first droplet hit him. 

It was just a light spring shower, but it was still tricky to convince Ollie to come out from the chicken coop he had taken shelter in. It wasn’t until you decided to join the others that he slowly peeked out, sunken eyes wide.  

Kissy was twirling in the middle of the drive, her arms spread wide and her smile bright as ever. Poppy had her own arms outstretched, her face tilted up against the tickling drops and a smile on her eternally-painted lips. Dogday was brightly laughing as he pulled you out from the sheltered area to where several puddles were quickly forming. 

Seeing you and Dogday stomping in the water looked far too fun for the boy to ignore, and soon he was brave enough to leave his place of safety (to the relief of the hens not used to the small child in their home). IT took him a moment to get used to the constant patter on his skin, but both you and Dogday were becoming him closer with open hands. 

Laughter soon echoed in the air as the three of you would stomp from puddle to puddle. Kissy and Poppy didn’t join in --both not fond of getting muddy-- but enjoyed watching the three of you, two acting like overgrown kids and one finally able to act his age.

Things seemed perfect.

---

Later, Kissy and Poppy had corralled Ollie into the upstairs bathroom for a ‘proper’ bath. Judging from the splashing and outraged squeals from Poppy, the boy was still enjoying the new lease on childhood… or maybe Kissy had decided to join in the impishness. You weren’t sure, and was more focused on Dogday anyways. 

Your bedroom had its own bathroom, complete with an old large clawfoot tub that Dogday was able to sit in, though it was a tight fit. So you had taken it upon yourself to grab a basin and a few washcloths to scrub his back that was still coated in sticky things you rather not think about while he handled the rest. 

“I wish I could have done better on these stitches,” you offered as you gently cleaned around the sloppy uneven stitches where you had sewn his bottom half back on. The thread you had been able to find was a bright neon green and easy to see against his tan hair, and the ‘hide’ of his top half flapped over a bit of his bottom half since you had no idea how else to stitch the pieces together. Sewing has never been your forte. 

You swore magic had to be involved, considering that a simple sewing together and undoing the tourniquet had somehow ‘healed’ the connection and he could feel and control his lower body once more. 

“They’re fine,” Dogday reassured, currently scrubbing a stubborn stain on his arm. “The fact you were able to fix me in the first place is a miracle in itself, angel.” 

“I know,” you whined, unable to stop glaring at the poor stitchwork. “But it’s green. And all wonky…” 

He paused to look down at the stitching, a fond expression on his face (though you couldn’t see it.) “I like it that way. It’s a visual reminder of how much you cared.”

Your heart thumped at his words, and you bit your lip. It had been an act of desperation… but he wasn’t wrong. You had cared-- you had been terrified that you would do something to hurt him. To cause him to die no matter what you did. You wanted to save him-- to be able to save someone.

The memory threatened to overwhelm you, and you dropped your washcloth so you could wrap your arm around his shoulders, uncaring that you were getting your clothes wet by hugging him. 

You had been so close to losing him. Close to losing your own life. Failing everyone  yet again after you had failed years prior. 

“Angel?” Dogday managed to shift, and before you knew it, you were in his arms, cradled against his body as you cried. “What is it?” 

“I-I-” you stuttered, clenching your eyes as if you could push those memories out of your mind. Not just of him, but of everything. It was like a crack had formed and everything you had stubbornly ignored came rushing in. 

“Oh Angel,” he sighed as if he understood, pulling you closer. “Sweetheart. It's okay.”

“How can you call me that?” You choked out. “I-I left all of you, ten years ago. I saw what they were doing and I ran away.” 

“You were little more than a child yourself,” was not the answer you were expecting. As if he remembered just like Mommy Longlegs had. “Probably a bright-eyed intern or something, am I right?” 

You weakly nodded your head. You had been so excited when your application had been accepted. Everyone was hushed about the project, but they were looking for brilliant minds to help lead the future. You had been chosen out of hundreds of others. You had signed so many non-disclosure and other legal papers you thought it was weird for a toy factory but dismissed it as corporate paranoia. 

You didn't realize why until you stumbled upon that first file. Realized the toys looking after the kids weren't advanced animatronics. You hadn't discovered the whole story, but enough to send you running for the hills.

Literally. 

You quit everything, and ran away into the woods hoping they would never find you. 

“Besides, you came back. And now we're here. Safe.” His thumb wiped at your tears. “Cuddling in a bathtub.” 

The last but made you laugh despite yourself and helped bring you back into the moment. You had to admit, it probably looked odd; giant Dogday squished in the tub with you--a full grown adult--more or less cradled in his arms. Both of you now thoroughly wet.

Your laugh made his smile widen faintly. “There we go. I know we'll all have hard days, but as long as we're here for each other, I think we'll get through it.” 

Five: Wait

“I won’t be gone long, I promise,” you had said as you climbed into your truck. Without him. Dogday had all but whined at you, unashamed at the puppy-eye expression he gave you. “Day,” you had sighed, leaning out the window to cup his cheek as he leaned down. “I’m sorry, but the back is going to be full when I come back. And besides, who’s going to look after them?”

He should have pointed out that Kissy and Poppy were well able to deal with anything, the two girls were much more capable than they appeared. However, he had quietly conceded and stood back, allowing you to disappear down the steep drive. 

That had been early this morning. Nearly five hours ago.  

Dogday had barely moved from his spot, waiting to see the sunlight glint off your truck as it climbed the driveway. Or to hear its engine grumble as it approached. What if something happened to you? His sweet angel? He may have been trapped in the factory all those years, but he still knew the outside world could be just as dangerous. Especially to someone sweet and kind as you. 

“You’re really whipped, aren’t you?” Poppy spoke as Kissy approached, carrying the smaller doll on her shoulder. “When I said they’d be our angel to come save us, I didn’t think you would take it this far.” 

“They saved me,”  he answered, his eyes still focused on this distance. He meant more than just his life, when he was strung up like a piece of meat for the miniatures to come feast upon. When he had been so blinded by rage and the need for revenge…

He could still see your eyes through the thick glass of the gasmask, begging him to stop. Your voice as you asked him to spare Catnap’s life because there had been enough death.

 “If that doesn’t deserve loyalty, I don’t know what else would.” 

“Loyalty. Right.” Poppy sighed, shaking her head. “You sure you’re not suffering from a bad case of puppy-love?” 

Dogday paused, his thoughts screeching to a halt at her words. Kissy Missy giggled behind her yellow hand as he struggled with the idea. Puppy love? Certainly not. What he felt wasn’t all warm, fuzzy, yet superficial. 

It was deep and all encompassing to the point it almost overwhelmed him sometimes when he looked at you. Whether covered in blood and dust with a look of grisly determination, or freshly showered and wet hair clinging to your face while you laughed, you were his angel. He’d do anything for you. 

“Not puppy love… but I do love them.” 

Just as the admission left his voice box, he heard the grumble of an engine, and looked down the road to see your old truck making its way up the zig-zagging path, the bed filled with things as you had predicted. His tail slowly started to wag behind him, belying his excitement and joy. 

He loved you so much, and he didn’t care if you never felt the same. As long as you let him stay by your side day after day, he’d be happy. 

Even if he had to wait sometimes. 

Six: Memories

Ollie may have been naive to things you presumed as common knowledge, but when it came to technology, he was a veritable genius. Considering he had to use the old machines to often run and hide from the others in the factory, it wasn’t that much of a surprise. 

The scrawny boy was able to help you hook up the various equipment you had brought home with you amongst the tons of groceries. A scanner, an old VHS reader, and an internet router with enough power to accomplish what you wanted. 

You hadn’t left the factory empty handed, after all. Dozens of VHS tapes, hundreds of files and loose papers. You had collected every bit of proof you could. And you were going to finish Rowan's work. 

“Are you sure about this?” Ollie asked as you popped the first VHS tape to convert into a digital file. “You’re going to be in big trouble if they find out…” 

“I should have done this a long time ago,” you said with determination. “Besides, I promised everyone else. They’ve waited long enough.” 

Poppy and the others were silent. This had been part of Poppy’s plan all along, after all. Bring the crimes of Playtime Co to light and assure nothing like this happens again.

Yet your hands shook as you scoured for the email address for every news company and journalist you could find. You remembered what Playtime did to Rowan, and while their factory had been decommissioned a decade ago, it was hardly the only one. They were still one of the largest companies on the scene.

Who’s to say that similar things weren’t happening there? More than one had an orphanage on site, after all. 

This would certainly be their downfall, and they were bound to come after you if given half the chance. This little piece of heaven that you had these last few days would be stolen away from you…

Dogday leaned on you from behind, lanky arms wrapped around your shoulders while his chin rested on your head. The heavy weight was comfortable, as was the soft scent of vanilla that you had worked back into his fur after his bath the other day. 

“Nothing is going to happen to Angel,” he growled softly. “Or any of us. We’ll protect our new home.”

“Our family,” Poppy added quietly, and got a determined nod from Kissy and a cheer from Ollie. You relaxed into Dogday’s embrace, wrapping your fingers around his arms.

--*--

Dogday and Catnap circled each other, growls and snarls echoing in the small chamber. Red Mist filled the air, yet somehow Dogday was still awake. Aware of what was reality and what was a waking nightmare.

 Catnap had not expected to see his old friend again after ripping him in half and sacrificing him to the miniatures. All these years and he thought Dogday was with him--with the Prototype-- and only to learn he sided with her. Poppy. And you. The one Dogday called angel.  

Dogday finally made the first move, swinging a broken pipe he had been carrying. Normally Catnap could avoid it, but his feet stumbled over the debris hidden in the thick red mist. 

“Stop it!” You screamed, voice muffled by your gasmask as you suddenly appeared out of the mist. Dogday nearly slammed the pipe into you, but stopped a hairbreadth away. Catnap was just as stunned as his counterpart as you stood protectively between the two large beings. 

“There’s been enough death,” you continued as Dogday lowered his weapon. “I know he hurt you. I know he’s done a lot wrong, but…” 

“He doesn’t deserve your mercy, angel,” Dogday growled softly. “None of us do, but especially not him.” 

You shook your heads, arms still stretched wide. “Maybe, but I’m tired of all this death. Everyone’s been wronged here. The horrors that you all went through, even before the Hour of Joy. It has to end, and I want it to end now.” 

You protected him. Stood up against the Prototype when He came down and tried to end Catnap’s life and steal his body to integrate with His. Catnap vividly remembered the determined expression on your face as you faced off against his fake-god. 

You… were merciful. Kind. Real.  While the Prototype had stayed to himself, distant from everyone else, you walked with them. You had taken those four away from the factory, swearing to those left behind that help would soon come. 

You would save them. 

Catnap had to waitfor little less than a week before seeing your promise come to fruition. Not years, or another decade of pain and suffering. Less than a week and all sorts of people were swarming the factory. 

You had made everything public knowledge, so the company or anyone else couldn’t just sweep them under a rug and dispose of them. He watched as humans cared for the little ones, offering the food and water that they had been deprived of for so long. PJ Pug-a-pillar, Huggy Wuggy, and others he didn’t know were still alive were pulled from the hands of death and into life. Freedom. 

He could have stepped into the light and joined them. He knew the miniatures would be happy about that…yet watching one of miniature counterparts huddle close with its brethren, all of them with juice boxes and blankets, reminded him harshly of what he had done. He had done so much in the name of that false-god…

He had to find The Savior and do what he could to be redeemed. 

[shitty-mechs-headcannons]

none of the mechanisms originaly knew what socks were, until tim joined the crew. for the first few centuries he wondered why everyone kept walking on aurora's cold floors barefoot while he did that in a pair of warm, hand-crocheted socks. finally, he thought to ask every crew member separately what the Fresh Hell is wrong with them and found that everyone had the same answer.

enraged and riddiculed, watching jonny wrap his feet in bandages like a little masochist he was for the thousandth time, he decides that he needs to put an end to it and make everyone socks. on one of the planets he Legally Obtains™ a few balls of the warmest, fluffiest yarn he could find and sets to work.

now see, the thing is tim isn't very good at crocheting, nor at knitting. so his first bath is a little shitty - some pairs have one sock a few rows too short, some colours don't line up like they should, some patterns look... wonky. but the rest of the crew is IN AWE. theyve never even THOUGHT that their feet could be this WARM and PROTECTED. and even though this became the reason he had to watch brian wear socks and sandals together... it makes his crew happy. so he just sits down and knits another batch of considerably less shitty socks.

(id love to write a fic for it. maybe i actually will)

the concept of all these idiots running around in boots with no socks is so terrifying actually what the fuck

-mod wil