#you can clearly tell im terrible at summaries

[m0llygunn]

deathbed confessions (eddie munson x fem!reader one-shot)

summary: cold and flu season hits you hard but luckily you have your best friend eddie to take care of you. If the cold medicine makes you admit a few things... eddie sure isn't complaining.

contents: 18+, best friends to lovers, r is dramatically sick with a cold (talks about dying but it's just drama), fluff idk a/n: guys i am so sick help me i had to lay on the bathroom floor after braving a shower because i thought i was gonna die (but also i wrote this so maybe im ok) wc: 4.4k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Holy shit, did Halloween come early?” Eddie snickers from the door of your room.

All you can muster up is a low groan and that alone makes you feel like your head is on the brink of explosion. 

“Jesus, you’re really sick, huh?” he says with the huff of a laugh.

You answer with another groan. Yes. You are 'really sick'.

“Can I do something to help?” he replies, the first hint of empathy appearing in his voice.

“Put me out—” you interrupt yourself with a sniffle followed by a phlegmy cough. “—out of my misery.”

You were supposed to be seeing some double feature with Eddie tonight but yesterday, right before bed, you felt the slightest of tickles in your throat. By morning you were the living dead with everything from your big toe to your forehead aching in one way or another. You called Eddie and before you could even mention that you were sick, he knew from your stuffed up voice. 

No matter how many times you told him you’d be fine he was strangely insistent in checking on you at the very least. By the end of the call he’d quickly worn you down and you told him that he has the spare key and he can do whatever he wants but if he gets sick that's his fault— a little mean but arguing was the last thing you felt like doing.

From the time you hung up to now— which has only been a handful of hours, you’ve gotten substantially worse. Earth shatteringly worse. So terribly worse that the simple task of opening your eyes has been too much effort. Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and your lungs are just begging for salvation. That’s why when Eddie called twenty minutes ago letting you know he was on his way you told him no. It would have been wise if he listened to you but instead he replied ‘too bad’ and abruptly hung up the phone. 

Cut to twenty minutes later he was at your door, letting himself in. He was willingly walking into his very own death sentence. He clearly thought it was more of a joke than anything.

You hear Eddie’s tell-tale gait as he walks further into your room. You assume that he’s standing over your bed, maybe a hand on the back of his neck, maybe a hand on his hip. Mustering the efforts to confirm your suspicions would take too much of your very limited energy so you continuing laying in your bed, not doing as much as opening an eye.

You hear the ruffle of his hair and he definitely is rubbing the back of his neck as he gauges what to do. 

“So…do you want, like, medicine then?” he asks. 

“A gun,” you croak, earning a deep belly laugh from Eddie.

“At least your humour’s still intact, that’s good to know,” he says, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

You try to shuffle over to make room for him, but that effort alone makes you wince.

“Call an ambulance,” you whine, sniffling pathetically. 

“Really?” he asks, a genuine nervousness creeping into his voice. You feel his hand tug at the blanket you’ve cocooned yourself in, revealing your face for him to see. If you were more cognizant maybe you’d care about Eddie seeing you like this, but you’re too far gone to think about that. 

“No,” you answer, nodding your head up and down in contrast to your answer, earning a huff of relief from Eddie. 

The blanket slackens from his pull and the bed dips deeper as he leans in further to get a better look at you. Once again, if you were more cognizant you’d probably rather he didn’t, but you wouldn’t have the will to fight it anyways.

“Did you take anything?” he asks. 

“It’s been a few hours.”

“Did you eat?”

“Yeah, whipped up a quick 4 course meal earlier, michelin approved of course,” you mumble. You contemplate cracking an eye open to see his reaction but you don’t. 

“Right, so no food.” 

“No, surprisingly not that hungry when you’re on your deathbed,” you say, sniffling.

“Tell me you’ve at least had water,” he says and from his tone you know that he already knows the answer. 

“I had water until the bottle was empty, then I decided I’d rather succumb to death than get out of bed,”

“Funny, funny girl,” he says dryly, obviously not impressed by your answers. 

“Tombstone quote,” you say weakly, hoping that Eddie gets what you mean. He laughs softly and you consider that enough of a success. 

You hear the slightest bit of shuffling, not Eddie getting up but more like he’s looking around your room. Whatever state it’s in, you couldn’t even work up the courage to care. 

“Do you want a movie on or something?” he asks, breaking the lull in conversation. 

“Would you do that?” you ask, tilting your face towards him despite not opening your eyes. 

“Oh yeah. I’m giving you the mortally ill special— the deathbed works, if you will,” he says, and you can tell he’s smiling. You do your best to smile back but it’s weak and probably looks more like a grimace. 

You feel shuffling before the bed rises from Eddie standing.

“Okay, so I’m gonna get you medicine first. Then movie, food, and whatever else, deal?”

Your lower lip pouts out appreciatively for the boy you’ve called your best friend for forever now. If you weren’t deathly ill, you’d kiss him.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whisper, voice getting caught in your throat for an entirely different reason than your cold this time. 

He mumbles back some version of ‘don’t worry about it’ before he’s off, leaving you in the quiet of your room with only your breathing, coughing, and sniffling breaking the silence. It’s barely a few minutes before you hear his footsteps and the edge of your bed dips again. 

“This is what you took right? The cold and flu medicine?”

“Mhm” you hum.

“You have nasal congestion?”

You sniffle loudly and nod.

“Right. Nasal pain, sinus congestion, and sinus pain?”

You hum again, catching onto the fact that he’s reading the symptoms off of the box. 

“Chest congestion?”

Weakly you swat your hand out trying to find Eddie. When you do, you give him the weakest of taps. “Too many questions,” you muster. 

“Well, I know you’re joking about dying but I don’t want to actually kill you,” he says. You hum again.

You hear him fumbling with the cardboard before fumbling with the plastic pill packaging.

“Do you wanna sit up?” he asks.

“I want to die,”

“Well you can’t do that so I’m gonna help you sit up, okay?”

Eddie starts tugging at the blanket and you let your weakened limbs go limp, undoubtedly making the task much harder for him but he doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he pulls you up by your underarms, propping you up against your headboard. 

When you feel his cool hands on your forehead, pushing your hair back and out of your face, you open your eyes for the first time since Eddie got here. 

“There she is,” he laughs lightly, still pushing back the disheveled mess that is your hair.

“Your hands feel nice,” you whisper, focusing on the coolness on your skin. Before you have a chance to really absorb the relief of his hands on your skin, he pulls away, grabbing for the water he had set down on your bedside table. 

“Yeah, you’re really hot,” he replies, passing the water to you.

“Tombstone quote,” you say, catching his eye, making him laugh again. With a shaky hand, you take the water.

“Funny and hot, that’s a killer deal.” He hands you the little cold and flu pill and you place it in your mouth, swallowing it down with small sips of the cold water that feels like ice going down your throat. 

You redirect your gaze to Eddie, “you’re gonna get sick, that’s the real killer here,” you say. 

“I’ll be fine,”

“You don’t want this cold, trust me,” you say, taking another sip of water before holding it out to Eddie. 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeats as he takes the water, putting it back on your bedside table. 

You nod. You appreciate Eddie’s help more than anything. Fending for yourself wasn’t exactly going so well— clearly.

“You had this with your other stuff, do you want it?” he asks, holding up the vicks vapor rub.

When you felt the cold coming on you went to the pharmacy and picked up a few things just in case. The vapor rub was on sale and you bought it on a whim but haven’t tried it yet.

“Do you think it really works?”

“Wayne used to put it on me, I guess it does?”

“Where do you put it?”

“On your chest or back,” he answers, looking at the fine print of the packaging. “Yeah, it says chest, throat, and back.”

You open your mouth to reply but instead feel the creeping up of the tickling in your throat. Turning the other way, you do your best to not cough all over Eddie. Sucking in a deep breath, you only trigger another cough that divulges into one of many coughing attacks that you’ve had today. When you’re finally done, you drop your head to the back of the headboard in defeat. 

“C’mon, let’s try it on your back for now,” he says, putting a hand on your shoulder encouraging you to lean forward. You move how he wants you without protest.

“I’m just gonna lift up your shirt a bit, okay?” he says, you nod but he pauses, fingers just barely slipping under the hem of your shirt.

“Eddie, with the way I’m feeling, you could see me butt ass naked right now and I could not care less,” you say. 

He snorts a laugh before his cool fingers trail up your spine giving you tingles that make you shiver. “Sorry,” he hums but you shake your head. His hand makes contact with your upper back, rubbing the ointment on your skin and it honestly feels incredibly soothing. Whether it’s the rub or the physical contact, you’re not sure, but you’re not questioning it either.

The noise that comes out of you could have been a moan had you not been congested. Instead it comes out like a low, stuffed up groan— not unlike a movie zombie. 

Eddie rubs a few more circles on your back before his hand travels back down your spine. 

“How’s that feel?” he asks, helping you sit back up straight.

“So fucking good and like I need you to rub my back like that again,” you say, resting your head back against the headboard. Maybe you put a little too much conviction in your words but that truly felt amazing.

The room is silent and you blink open your eyes to see Eddie holding the tub of rub in his hands, paused halfway through closing it. It takes a moment for him to look up at you but when he does, he smiles softly.

“What movie do you wanna watch?”

Had you not been distracted by your sickness, you might have noticed the faintness of a blush spreading across the tops of Eddie’s cheeks. Coughing and forcing air back into your lungs takes up every ounce of your consciousness though, so you don’t notice. 

You shrug your shoulder taking a deep breath, “anything, I’ll probably pass out from the medicine anyways,” you reply, turning away again to cough. 

Eddie hums before he’s moving to your dresser opposite your bed, angling the TV for you to see it better. 

“Sixteen Candles, Children of the Corn, Gremlins, Teen Wolf?” he says, listing off the titles of the different tapes you have sprawled next to the vcr. 

“Any.” 

“Gremlins seems kind of relevant,” he says, pulling open the clamshell box.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask. Eddie turns to you, smirk spreading across his lips.

“Nothing,” he sings lightly. He turns away from you, pushing the tape into the player and then pressing the combination of buttons to get it working. 

“You better not be implying that I look like a gremlin because—” you interrupt yourself with another cough that quickly divulges into yet another coughing fit— worse than the last. 

With each cough being so strong it makes your head pound. You don’t notice Eddie crossing your room or him settling back on the edge of your bed. You only notice his presence when he’s encouraging you forward, hand rubbing your back again. 

When your coughing finally calms down enough for you to take a good breath, Eddie brings the glass of water up for you to take a sip. You take the cup in your hands, guiding it to your mouth. At the same time, Eddie never fully lets go of the cup, making sure it doesn’t spill. You take a drink, nodding when you’re done and he sets it back down, hand still running up and down your back. 

“It’s probably just the rub working, getting all that nasty stuff out,” he says softly. 

You nod again, letting your head fall to rest on Eddie’s shoulder. It’s probably not the smartest idea to be so close to him because you're pretty much sentencing him to his demise, but with how terrible you feel you’re desperate for anything to make it better— and right now the only thing making anything better is Eddie. 

“The medicine’ll kick in any minute and you’ll feel much better, okay? I’ll go get you something to eat and then I can rub your back some more. How’s that sound?” he says softly, brushing the edge of your face with his chin as he tilts his face downwards towards yours. 

Your lower lip pouts out again and you feel your eyes water behind your closed lids. Maybe you were already hyper emotional from feeling so sick, but Eddie being so sweet is also doing a number on you.

“Sounds really nice,” you whisper, sucking in a breath.

“You’ll be okay,” Eddie whispers, hand switching from rubbing up and down your back to rubbing circles at the top of your back. “I’ll take care of you, I got you.”

Before the tears in your eyes have a chance to breach your waterline, Eddie’s shifting beside you, leaning you back against the headboard with the promise of being quick while he gets you food. Only once he’s gone and you’re left alone in your room do you notice Gremlins has already started playing. Opening your eyes, you spare a few glances at the screen that distract you from your teary eyed state.

As Eddie promised, he was pretty quick in his return. You could hear him the whole time, kitchen utensils clanking and cupboard doors closing. Maybe all concept of time is lost on you right now, but it seemed like barely any time had passed before he was taking slow, careful steps back towards your room.

“Alright— got that soup you like, got crackers, and got you some juice,” Eddie announces as he situates the dishware on your bedside table. “I even made sure not to warm the soup too much so you can eat it right away,” he says.

Eyes closed again, you don’t know what you expected him to do but him manhandling you took you by surprise. A hand slid behind your back and another under your upper thighs, he was sliding you right over on the mattress.

“Just giving myself some space here,” he says absentmindedly as he fixes your blanket around you. He quickly settles in next to you before grabbing the sleeve of crackers and settling them in front of you and grabbing the bowl of soup.

Sitting with his legs stretched out next to yours, you let your head dip to his shoulder again, this time like a silent thank you where you cozy your head against him, not unlike a cat.

“For the record, you’re more like Gizmo,” he says, a tease intruding in his voice.

“Hm?” you hum questioningly.

“You don’t look like a gremlin, you’re cute like Gizmo,” he says.

You sink your face further into the crook of Eddie's shoulder, lip jetting out once more. He’s done nothing more than call you a cute gremlin rather than an evil gremlin, yet you feel yourself turning misty eyed yet again. This time you squeeze your eyes shut, closing them on purpose, hiding your sickness induced emotions.

“Soups gonna get cold,” Eddie says, twisting his neck to look at you again. “C’mon, it’ll be better for you if you eat it warm,” he says, using his free arm to move you.

Once you’re finally propped up again in an appropriate position to eat, you feel Eddie’s hand on your cheek— no doubt becoming aware of your tears.

“You okay?” he asks softly, thumb rubbing under your cheek.

“You’re being so nice to me,” you explain, sniffling back your need to cry.

“Just taking care of you. Want you to feel better,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“You don’t gotta thank me, just gotta eat your soup, okay Gizmo?” Eddie says, making you snort out a snotty laugh before sucking it all back in with an apology that he quickly dismisses. 

You take a few breaths, getting your tears under control. Shifting your focus to the soup, Eddie holds the bowl close to you while you slowly feed yourself spoonful after spoonful. 

“Crackers?” Eddie offers.

“Maybe one.”

“How ‘bout two?” he replies, peeling back the plastic and pulling two out for you. You nod softly before taking them from him. 

You feel yourself running out of energy and it’s exasperating that all it took was lifting a spoon to your lips a measly few times. When you let the crackers sit in your lap for too long, Eddie turns to look at you, resting the bowl of soup down in his lap. 

“Y’okay?” he asks.

“Tired,” you answer. 

“Just finish those and you can be done, okay?” he says, meeting your gaze. You shake your head.

“Can’t,” you reply.

“You can,” he says, turning his torso to put the bowl of soup on the table. He turns back around, reaching for the crackers in your hand. “Know you can,” he repeats, bringing the crackers to your lips.

“Eddie—” you try to protest.

“Bite,” he says, cutting you off and nudging the cracker into your mouth. 

You bite, giving into him. It feels weird being hand fed. It’s probably even weirder when two bites in you close your eyes in an effort to conserve your energy. Regardless, Eddie doesn’t say anything besides positive affirmations about how good you’re doing which you really, really appreciate. 

“How about you drink some of this,” he says, reaching for the glass of juice as you chew the last bite of cracker. “Then I’ll help you lay down and I can rub your back s’more?”

“You don’t have to if you wanna go home, you've been here a long time,” you say, swallowing the dryness of the cracker down. 

Eddie lifts the cup of juice to your lips, tipping it back for you to sip at. When you take more than a few drinks, you lift a hand lightly pushing the cup away. Blinking your eyes open you look at Eddie as he returns the cup to sit with the other dishware on your bedside table. 

“I’m serious, Eddie. You can go home if you want,”

“Don’t want to,”

“You’re gonna be— you interrupt yourself with a yawn this time. “—gonna be so sick,” you say groggily.

“Just let me cuddle you, you know you want it,” he says, a teasing tone hinting in his voice. You blink open your eyes again to see a genuine smile as he looks at you—one that shouldn’t be there considering how gross you feel and are sure you look. Despite that, it’s there and you do want cuddles so you nod softly, making a weak, sad attempt at getting closer to Eddie.

Eddie meets your attempt by gently pulling you down the mattress. He maneuvers you to have your head resting on his chest while his arm snakes around you, rubbing circles on your back. With the sleepiness settling in and your cold symptoms dialing back due to the medicine, you can’t help but hum happily. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he says quietly.

It feels beyond good. Good is an understatement. Having him take care of you like this is making you feel mushy and only highlights your feelings for Eddie. In combination with your partially delusionally, sleepy state the only thing on your mind is expressing your feelings, all of them true no matter how far out of it you are at this point. 

“Eddie, if I die, just know that I love you,” you mutter into the fabric of his shirt. 

“That’s just the cold medicine talking,” Eddie laughs softly. You find the energy to shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, love you,” you repeat. “Love you so much.”

It’s faint, maybe he whispered it or maybe it’s the fact that you were slipping into sleep but you heard it. 

“I love you too,” he says quietly. 

As if those words gave you a short lived second life, it had you perking up, desperately needing to clarify just in case he didn’t understand. 

“But Eddie I love you as my best friend but also more than that— I love you so much.”

He leaves you in silence but you don’t have the clear consciousness to overthink it, you just keep talking.

“I don’t even care if you don’t like me like that, I love you Eddie.”

“I love you too. Love you a lot, but I think we should talk about this when you’re not tired and on cold medicine, okay?” he whispers softly. 

As your thoughts start to drift, you focus on the first half of Eddie's sentiment. He loves you— and he loves you a lot. With that on your mind, intermixed with the comforting friction of his hand on your back, you fall into the deepest and most comfortable sleep of your life despite being so sick. Eddie loves you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Arguably, the best thing that came out of your cold was your confession. It was bound to happen eventually and although it did sort of seem like a deathbed confession at the time, it was genuine— that of which you clarified for Eddie. To your fortune, he also clarified that his reply was true as well. Beyond that, you were still sick and neither of you had done much more than just sharing those little words that one night. So yes, arguably, that's the best thing that came out of your sickly state; however, in your opinion, you think the best thing that happened was that you got Eddie sick too. 

It was less than a day after you started feeling normal again that Eddie was running a fever. He ended up staying at your place for the majority of your sickness but he had left once to get some things for himself. Since he had his stuff here already, you offered for him to stay over at yours while you returned the favor of playing doctor. 

Eddie took on a much different position as a sick person than you did. Undeniably, you both were on the dramatic end of things but while your cynical humour came out during your time being sick, Eddie was much different in how expressed himself.

Normally, a very touchy feely person, his affectionate side heightened tenfold while he was sick. He was all grabby hands, wanting you closer to him. Maybe it was because the two of you had broken the touch barrier while you were sick or maybe Eddie just turned into a touch deprived baby when he was sick, you’ll never know, but you didn’t deny him of the cuddles that you so dearly appreciated while you were under the weather. 

The most interesting part— which shouldn't have came as a surprise, was that not only did he appreciate holding you, but he intensely appreciated you holding him, whether that be hands scratching his head as he rested it on your stomach, or your arms wrapped around him from behind making him the little spoon. Additionally, he was also incredibly affectionate with his words, constantly telling you how grateful he was for you and how much he appreciated you. 

Your favourite confession came late one night, probably at the peak of his sickness. Fairly similar to your deathbed confession, but a moment to remember regardless.

You had just finished helping him eat, similar to how he had done for you, and were cuddling with him, smoothing your hands over his side as he rested his head on your chest. 

The medicine was kicking in, making him drowsy, eyes fluttering shut as he let sleep take him over. He had kept babbling random thoughts but as he got more and more tired he was eventually reduced to heavy breaths. That was, until he titled his face up to yours. You looked down at him, meeting his sleepy eyes.

“I love you,” he said. “Love you so much.”

“Love you too, Eddie,” you replied, smiling.

“But I love you so much,” he said, voice returning to its babbling cadence. “Love you so much I wanna kiss you and love you and—” his babbling started to slowly fade as his head got heavier on your chest. You couldn’t help but laugh softly as your heart swelled.

You smoothed a hand over his face, brushing back his hair as you stared at him with nothing but love for your very, very sick boy. Like you had given him a second wind, his babbling started up again. 

“Wanna marry you. Love you so much wanna marry you,” he said, words slurring.

“Think you’ll have to ask me on a date first, cutie,” you replied quietly, partially under the impression that he was already asleep. 

“I will. Love you so much, I will,” he mumbled and with that, he was out like a light. 

From there, the rest was history. If curious minds were to inquire, you would say that Eddie’s always been very good at keeping his promises, and mindless babbling or not, he meant every word that he confessed in his sickly, drowsy state. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

thank you! <3

[iiwaijime]

repost from old acc! reblogs are appreciated<3

anytime, anywhere ; megumi fushiguro x reader

wc ; 574 | content ; femcoded(?) gender neautral reader, swearing, kissing, ooc, multiple scenarios set in one universe, suggestive positioning, can be read as a standalone or a part two to this

summary ; relationship things!!

when yuuji finds out that you and megumi are together, he almost screams. he's raving like a madman–saying everything from i’m happy for you! to what the fuck do you mean you're dating now, so i spent like three hours worrying for nothing? 

by the time he finishes, megumi has an awkward smile on his face, and you're laughing bashfully. but yuuji has to admit that side by side on the couch, the two of you do look cute together. he leaves soon after, saying something about giving the newlyweds space. maybe he also feels guilty about the fact that he accidentally told you about megumi's terribly intense crush on you.

and when you're finally alone, megumi lifts your linked hands and shyly kisses yours.

you yawn, pushing yourself upright on your desk. there's still a considerable amount of time until class ends, but you're pretty sure you're gonna pass out before it does. glancing behind your shoulder, you look for your boyfriend, megumi, only to find him staring back at you. he looks tired too, but when your eyes meet his face breaks out into a lazy grin–one that leaves you weak in the knees.

as soon as your teacher leaves the classroom, students pour out of the large classroom. you wait, and so does megumi, until the room's almost empty. it's then that he approaches you, picking up your bag with one hand as you get up. intertwining your fingers together, he kisses the side of your head gently. 

“so, what's for lunch?” he asks.

before you can answer, though, he's shutting you up already. “coffee isn't lunch, baby.”

you pout, leaning into his touch. “whatever.”

you flop down on the bed beside megumi, glaring at nothing in particular. you've been ignoring him for over an hour now, but he's just not getting the hint. you cough loudly. he still stares at his phone, typing something on it. you cough again, in a way that's clearly fake. this time, he bites.

“what's wrong?”

you frown back at him, silent. megumi raises an eyebrow curiously, turning to you. within a second, he's maneuvered you into a position where he's hovering over you, and you're on your back beneath him. 

“oh-” you gasp, surprised, but he cuts you off. 

“everythin’ okay?” despite your position being inherently sexual, both his voice and his touch are soft. you stare at the tv playing behind you, resolute in your mission to ignore him. he tilts your head up so that you're forced to look him in the eyes.

“hmm?”

“what date is it?” you demand.

“what?” he's confused. 

“what date is it?” you repeat.

“the fourth of february?”

“and?” 

“and?”

“and the 14th?”

“oh!” he falls back onto the bed beside you with a wide grin on his face. “should've just told me, pretty.”

you pout. “i tried.”

“naaah,” he draws out the singular word, twirling a lock of your hair around his fingers. “telling me and ignorin’ me are two different things.” [im so sorry if ur bald]

you want to move away from his touch, but there's just something that keeps you from doing so.

“so,” he smiles lazily, “you gonna be my valentine or what, baby?”

the way he says it is just so damn attractive, and you can't help but blush as you nod. and when he pulls you into his arms, you hear the the words he whispers into your hair. “was gonna ask you soon anyways, sweetheart.”

[awearywritersworld]

stay as long as you need

fushiguro toji x reader summary: toji can't stop hanging around his new neighbor, even though she has a boyfriend. oh well, he knows he's better for her anyway. w/c: 1.2k tags/warnings: hurt/comfort. angst to fluff. domestic violence perpetrated by reader's boyfriend, but nothing terribly graphic; the incident is discussed after the fact, not depicted. implied age gap. protective!toji. toji actually being nice. cliche "who did this to you" moment. fem!reader a/n: WHY IS HE SO HOT??????? I JUST WANT HIM TO TAKE CARE OF MEEEEEEEEE (OR CRUSH ME WITH HIS THIGHS, IM NOT PICKY) on a less unhinged note, thanks for reading!! masterlist

"need some help?"

you nearly jump upon hearing the words, having been lost in your own little world. when you turn around, you're met with a dark haired, well built man and just the sight of him makes your cheeks feel hot.

"oh, i- um," you glance between him and the heavy box in your hands.

he's already taking it from you though, effortlessly balancing it in one hand before opening the door for you with the other.

"thanks," you squeak out, stepping inside your new apartment building.

he smirks down at you, eyes raking over your body. toji isn't exactly the good samaritan type, but for a pretty little thing like you, he can certainly make an exception.

the elevator button lights up when he presses it. "just moving in?"

"yup! third floor. getting everything up there has been quite the ordeal, so i appreciate your help," you explain sweetly.

when the metal doors slide open, he lets you step inside first.

"hm, all by yourself? no boyfriend in the picture?" well, the sorcerer killer has never been one for subtly.

"yeah, actually," you return sheepishly. "he's just out with his friends at the moment."

"that so?" you don't see the look of judgement that crosses his face, though it isn't at all directed toward you.

once you emerge on your floor, toji follows along just a step behind you. he can't help his amusement when you stop at your door. "would you look at that. i guess we're neighbors now."

his head nods toward his own apartment, just two doors down from yours. "oh good! i'm glad this wasn't too far out of your way."

"don't worry about it, wouldn't have been any trouble either way."

you offer him a bashful smile before your door clicks open, revealing quite a few boxes just inside. "you can just put that anywhere, don't mind the mess.. i'm (y/n), by the way."

"toji." he places it on top of one of the other boxes, honestly impressed that you managed to get so many upstairs by yourself. "can i have your car keys?"

he thinks the look of confusion that crosses your features is just too cute. "what for?"

he chuckles because it should be obvious, but clearly you aren't used to being taken care of. "to get the rest of your boxes, princess."

~~~

the next afternoon, toji answers a knock at his door and finds you on the other side. you've got a plate of fresh cookies in your hand, which you shyly offer to the tall man. "these are for you. thank you so much for all your help yesterday! i couldn't have done it without you."

"thanks, you didn't have to," he tells you, although he's happy you did. when he pulls them from your grasp, his hands brush yours. he invites you in, insisting he can't enjoy them alone, but really he just wants to get to know you.

and he does. over the next few weeks, you spend a surprising amount of time in one another's company. whenever he bumps into you in the hall, he'll chat with you for a while, even (or, especially) when he's running late to a job.

one day you mention that a shelf you ordered came disassembled, so he offers to come over and put it together for you. of course you show up at his door the next day with a new plate of cookies.

another morning, toji groans when he discovers that he's out of tea, but quickly realizes it's the perfect excuse to knock on your door. when it swings open, he swallows thickly, taking in your tiny shorts and thin tank top. it was obvious you'd just woken up.

you're no better than he is with the way your eyes trail over his fitted tshirt, then down to the sweatpants that hang loosely around his waist. you're both too preoccupied staring to notice the other doing the same.

"mornin', sleepy beauty," he says with a lopsided grin.

"good morning, toji." you return his smile, your greeting a saccharine melody to his ears. oh, the things he'd do to have you all to himself.

he explains his predicament and you're more than happy to invite him inside. you both sit at your kitchen table, nursing a cup of tea and chatting about your day. the domesticity off it all leaves a pleasant taste in his mouth, which is bizarre seeing as up until a few weeks ago, he'd have found the thought down right repulsive.

but he just can't get you out of his head. you're too sweet for your own good, too young to know what you deserve in a man, and he's more than willing to show you.

he knows you're not available, but makes no attempt to stifle his growing fondness toward you. after all, he'd only ever seen your boyfriend once.

you were returning from a rare afternoon out just as he was leaving to pick up something for lunch. you looked so good in your cute little dress that he hardly even noticed your boyfriend at first.

"hey, (y/n)," toji greeted you. "who's this?"

he didn't give you a chance to speak, just pulled you into his side. "her boyfriend."

"ah," he leered, his nose crinkled. "i wasn't sure since i never see you around."

your eyes flickered between the two men somewhat nervously. toji towered over your boyfriend, a feat he took great satisfaction in.

a humorless laugh came from your left. "prefer to have her over at my place."

toji didn't respond right away, just looked down at you, taking note of your quietness. he briefly recalled the time you mentioned how much it bothered you that your boyfriend never came to visit, that you always had to make the effort.

"right.. well, you're a lucky man." he looked much more smug by then, his head falling to the side. "your girl has the best cookies around."

toji moves past both of you without waiting for a reply, roughly clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder. "see you around, (y/n)."

~~~

nearly two weeks later, toji's leaving his apartment late in the evening, as his current job can really only be taken care of during the nighttime hours. he doesn't expect to see many people in the halls, so he's surprised to find you at your apartment door.

the hood of your sweatshirt is pulled over your head, obscuring your face from his view. "(y/n)?"

you don't respond, so he takes a step toward you. it's only then he notices the way your hands are trembling, struggling with the lock. he reaches out, but when his fingers brush your arm, you jump back as if you'd been completely oblivious to his presence.

"hey-" he begins to say, but stops once he sees your face. his eyes darken and his jaw tenses, the veins in his neck becoming more prominent as a result.

your cheekbone is bright red, a small cut stretching across the center of the mark. your eyes watch him, wide and fearful, and you're all but frozen in place.

"who did this to you?"

he's struggling to keep his composure, the sight of your bruised face enough to have his heart hammering away angrily in his chest. you look away, tears forming in your eyes, and you can't bring yourself to respond.

"was it him?" he presses.

you nod, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in an attempt to keep from crying. "i-it's okay, though. he didn't mean it, really, and-"

"look me in the face and try that again."

you meet his gaze, somewhat unwillingly, and whimper. "i.. i can't."

he sighs quietly, his job already forgotten for the night, and moves toward you. he remembers how you flinched away from him just moments ago. "..can i touch you?"

you nod once more and he hesitantly pulls you against his chest. it's getting harder and harder to keep your emotions in check, especially with the slow circles his hand is drawing on your back.

"i was so scared, toji," you finally admit, voice barely above a whisper.

"i know, but you're safe now. won't let 'im touch you ever again," he promises, fully intent on keeping it.

his words push you over the edge and you grab at his shirt as you begin to weep, your knees buckling beneath you. he supports your weight, rocking you back and forth. "you're okay. it's going to be okay."

after a minute or two, he finally hears you take a shaky breath and relief fills his chest at the sound. "see? just like that, baby. in and out."

you do as he says and after a few more breaths, he pulls away from you and takes your hand. "c'mon. let's get you cleaned up."

leading you into his apartment, he goes straight to the bathroom. you gasp when he grabs you by the hips and hoists you up onto the counter before searching for his first aid kit. when he pulls it down from the cabinet, he moves to stand between your legs.

grabbing you by the chin, he tilts your head to get a better look your injury. the redness is already transitioning to a darker hue and he knows it'll look even worse tomorrow.

"gonna clean the cut, okay? it might sting."

"okay," you sniffle.

he rips open an alcohol wipe, dabbing it gently against your cheekbone. when you wince in pain, he offers a quiet apology, but he's finished before long, having applied a bit of ointment as well.

"thank you," you murmur.

both of his hands find your thighs, resting on the area just above your knees. "don't thank me. not for this."

there's an edge to his voice, but you know it's not directed toward you. your hands settle on top of his own, quelling his anger for the time being.

"you know," he grunts, his gaze lingering on your cheek before it shifts toward your eyes. "i could never lay a hand on you."

his expression is much softer now than it was in the hallway and he savors the small smile that tugs at your lips. "i know, toji."

as he looks down at you, he knows he's done for. hell, he's known it for a while now. you deserve to be adored. taken care of. made to feel good... and toji is more than confident in his ability to do so.

for a fleeting moment, he considers the fact it wouldn't be hard to find out where your boyfriend lives, to make sure he never raises a hand to you again, but your gentle voice pulls him from his thoughts.

"can i stay with you tonight?" you ask meekly.

"yeah, 'course.. you can stay as long as you need."

jjk taglist: @torusmochi

[redbird-tf]

Sibling mischief

Loki x little sister

Summary: Loki believed himself to be the last of his kind, destined to be alone, but a visit to Jotunheim would prove him terribly mistaken.

Notes: y/n age up for your interpretation (i wrote this on two hours of sleep)

Word count: 724

Warnings:none

“GET BACK HERE YOU RACSAL!”

Loki shouted for you while chasing you through the Asgardian forest as your giggles filled the air. Never in the thousands of years that Loki had roamed the universe did he think he'd have a sister. He had been so sure he was the last of his kind, but that all had changed the fatal day he returned to Jotunheim.

—————

It had been a dreadful day, weeks even. Despite his brother’s attempt to connect with him and his father's feigning affection, Loki was lonely. Lonelier than usual, so he traveled to the one place he could find solitude, jotunheim. The abandoned realm offered him the silence he needed to ponder about his existence, his burden.

His trance was broken by an unclear echo, he stood straight, pulling his dagger. “Who goes there!?” He exclaimed. he heard it again, a faint wail. “You dare mock a god!” He shouted as he began to follow the sound up a mountain. The cries were now clear and aggravating “Show yourself.” Loki demanded, scanning the rubble. His body came to a halt, seeing a glow coming from behind a rock. Loki slowly approached before shoving the rock out of the way. Lokis breath hitched as he dropped his dagger.

“Why hello there,” Loki said dropping to his knees, eyes wide as he stared, it was a baby. a baby that seemed to be frozen in time, as it had been a millennia since the last frost giant inhabited Jotunheim. “A frost giant baby” Loki whispered to himself, slowly lifting you into his arms as your cries began to subside. “A baby sister…” a small smile crept on his face.

Loki returned home where he would have to present you to Odin. a screaming match ensued. “how dare you bring a frost giant into my realm!” Odin screamed from his throne “you endanger our people with your reckless actions” he accused “She is no more than a baby!” Loki screamed back as he held your crying form against him. “Father hear Loki out, the baby can do no harm” Thor intervened earning a glare from Loki “i do not need your pity brother” he snarled, turning back to his father beginning to approach the throne “How dare you accuse me of being reckless when it was you who snatched me from Jotunheim, denied me of my identity and power, for years! You will not deny me a sister!” Loki screamed in Odin's face as guards began to approach. A simple raise of Odin's hand stops the guard in their tracks.

Odin's calm gaze met Loki's enraged one before glancing at you, as you rested against his chest, your small hand gripping the leather of his clothes. “Loki, do you swear to take full responsibility for this child as long as it roams Asgard?” Odin questioned. "I do," Loki stated firmly. "And if this child is to cause any issues, you shall take full responsibility, including punishment?" Odin continued. "I do. She is my burden," Loki stated clearly. "The child may reside on Asgard."

——————-

You let out green puffs, using your powers to distract him, but as soon as Loki had you in his sights he used his shadow powers to trip you. You went down with a hard thud “you truly are the goddess of mischief, sister” loki smirked leaning against a tree watching as you rubbed your forehead “that isn’t fair!” You exclaimed. “If you stopped running off when im trying to teach you, you would have known how to avoid thag trick.” Loki stated standing over you, extending his hand “now come on, before the sun sets” you took his hand and began heading back to the castle “loki…will you tell me the story of how you found me again?” You asked looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, he scoffed.

“Of course darling…”

[gyuriac]

idontwannabemeanymore | i. sae content: don't lose thy self (idk bro i hate summaries) pairings: sae itoshi x fem!reader (implied cz this is like the sequel of my other work Perdiste, but im pretty sure it's not explicitly said so...) notes: ANGST ANGST ANGST (the mc in first fic is using fem pronouns here bcs i cant write them with they/them in this perspective sorry 😓) kinda bad ugh ihatewritersblock ➜ first part

She was like the sun, the way she lit up the whole room by just existing. Her bright visage was enough to melt even the coldest of hearts. They were akin to moths to flame, Sae just can’t stop longing for her.

You knew he only used you for something, for his ego perhaps. Yet you stayed, played stupid whilst he scrolled through her social media right beside you. 

Only smiling, although with spite, when he immediately agreed when you mentioned her name.

They’ve been scolding you, calling him the most vile words that you didn’t even know, berating you for staying with a moron like him. 

Yes, he has ghosted you on multiple occasions, ignored you unless he had something important to say. But despite all of that, it’s still him.

The Sae who had willingly went outside to the heavy storm just to save you from getting sick yet he himself got sick instead.

It hurts, your heart feels like it's been pricked by needles endlessly before getting run over. You wanted to punch him, scream at him for being such a terrible person-but you also wanted to hug him and tell him how it’s okay and you love him.

It’s a mess and you don’t know what to do.

Alcohol is disgusting. Its bitter substance gives the feeling of your throat burning but it also makes your pain go numb. So you drink, and drink, and drink. Desperately trying to forget that he only agreed because you spoke of her name.

Your hand reached for another glass before it was taken away.

“Hey… that’s miiine. Get your own..” you slurred over your words, arms flailing around as you stood up wobbly. 

The culprit only sighed. “This is your fourth glass, you ought to be responsible and sober yourself up.” He scolded you before bringing the alcohol to his lips before drinking it all in one gulp. His nose crinkled in disgust before shoving the empty glass at the bartender.

You scowled at the sentiment, letting your head rest on the table. “What do you know?” you mumbled quietly while you stretched your arm for another glass.

Despite the loud buzzing like crazy with music and people, he still managed to hear you somehow. 

“I know that you look stupid downing alcohol like it’s water.” He gripped the new glass from your hands. Even though you’re so drunk that you can’t tell your lefts to your rights, disappointment was clearly exuding from him. So you find yourself pouting, Your gaze rose to his face from his hands ; his cyan eyes, full of irritation, dared you to argue back to him.

Rin Itoshi was never a fan of yours. You can vividly remember him tugging on your hair while playing in the sand pit and then you crying before getting comforted by the red head back then.

You stared at him, examining his features, while he asked the bartender for water. It was unsettling, you don’t remember him being able to drink legally nor being taller than you. Your eyes ended up on his sharp cheekbones replacing the once soft chubby cheeks and it hit you how much everything changed.

Sae wasn’t that boy who won’t eat his lunch unless you're with him, he wasn’t-

“Sae! My man!”

Perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, you bolted upright, turning your heel. The confused calling of your name fell deaf in your ears. All you thought was him and only him.

One more time.

If he looks you in the eyes, you’ll stay.

“Sae!” His name slipped from your tongue naturally, like it was just made for his name-him.

“I’m glad you came! It was such a pain managing by myself, thank the gods Rin was here!”

Please,

“How was your practice today? Any improvements lately?”

look at me…

His eyes lingered on your lips for a bit before a call of a name sliced through the whole crowd albeit quite muffled yet you swore Sae’s whole visage lit up like he was just saved from drowning.

And you smiled, tears welling up as you bit your lips hard.

Because no matter what you do to change to yourself, you will never be her. You will never be the one he calls first when he’s drunk nor will you be the one always on his mind.

“I’m sorry.” you murmured, breathing heavily while trying to gather your bearings. He raised his eyebrows, gears not turning in his head. 

With shaky hands, you linked your arms around him, face buried on his neck. Inhaling his musky scent one last time

“I love you so much.” 

Your voice came out as croaky, pulling away from him. 

Your hands found its way to his hair, ruffling his hair roughly that the gel failed to hold its shape. Just as you thought, he looked better this way.

You turned away from him; from your world. You can’t look at him, not when his cold gaze is enough to break your already fragile resolve like glass.

���So…I…” It’s hard to find your words, not when your tears are spilling at this point. Trying to calm yourself with shaky breaths.

You cleared your throat, hands desperately finding something to hold on. “I forgot to do something at home.”

You love him. That’s why you’ll leave him—let him be free of you to pursue her back.

“I’m not coming back, enjoy your night.” 

Like heavy rocks were chained on your feet, it took all of you just to take the first step. A heavy exhale left your lips before you started your stride.

It started slow at first, like a hatchling taking its first step before it hastened.

Because you love him, you wished—prayed even that for once he’ll pick you. Grab your arm, and finally look at you.

© gyuriac . i'm begging you to not put my works in any a.i thingy and please don't plagiarize. I don't own anything but my edits and writing.

[fuyusdreaming]

baji trio shenanigans incoming!!!

summary: just a lil bajifuyutora crack scenario i wrote up for shits and giggles!! it was originally written to be like a script for those silly little skits people do on anime tiktok that i absolutely love, but i fear im a terrible actor 😭 so i decided to post it here!! i have a few more ideas brewing in my head that im gonna try to write up as well so this may just turn into a series.

[chifuyu sits on the bed in their shared master bedroom, typing away on a laptop. he finishes up whatever he’s doing and closes the lid of the computer with a sigh, setting it to the side. ]

chifuyu: finally, that took fucking forever. now for the good stuff!

[he pulls a manga from the night stand and settles into a more comfortable position to read it, pulling the covers over his legs. after reading for a few minutes, he’s interrupted by baji barging into the bedroom looking slightly frazzled, followed by kazutora who has a shit eating grin on his face. chifuyu looks up at them from his book, giving them both a slightly confused look]

chifuyu: hello?

kazutora: baji has a question!

[baji turns to glare at him, hissing at him to shut up. kazutora just cackles]

[chifuyu sets his manga down, now turning to give them his full attention, although it’s obvious he’s sensing some bullshit]

chifuyu: okay?

[baji opens his mouth to speak but hesitates for a moment, knowing full and damn well they’re both going to get scolded]

baji: it’s a…hypothetical question. from both of us…not just me

chifuyu: hypo…thetical?

[kazutora nods enthusiastically, still wearing that shit eating grin that tells chifuyu it’s definitely not hypothetical]

kazutora: mhm mhm!

baji: so…you know how we sell dog treats…at the pet shop?

chifuyu: yes..?

[kazutora snorts beside him, trying to hold back his laughter. baji hits him and hisses again for him to shut up]

baji: and you know how some of them…look like cookies?

chifuyu: uh…yes?

baji: what would you think would happen, hypothetically, if someone who wasn’t a dog ate one? hypothetically!

[chifuyu’s face goes from confusion to straight disappointment. he licks over his lips and bites down, pinching the bridge of his nose]

chifuyu: you mean…like a cat?

[baji sucks his teeth, avoiding eye contact]

baji: not exactly…

chifuyu: oh my fucking god

[kazutora starts losing his shit in the background and baji yells at him again to shut up, giving him a harsh shove. they begin shoving each other and arguing back and forth. chifuyu is rubbing his face in an attempt to compose himself]

chifuyu: who did it.

[the fighting ceases and they both turn to look at him]

baji: huh?

chifuyu: which one of you ate the fucking dog treat?

[kazutora grins, raising his hand]

kazutora: oh! pick me, pick me!

[chifuyu sighs but waves at him]

chifuyu: yes kazutora….

kazutora: baji did it!

chifuyu: why.

[baji turns away shamefully, mumbling an answer that chifuyu can’t pick up]

chifuyu: what?

baji: kazutora double dog dared me…

[chifuyu lets out a deep sigh, letting his face drop into the palm of his hand. kazutora sits there on the floor looking proud of himself while baji at least has enough sense to look shameful]

chifuyu: you…

chifuyu: kazutora dared you to eat a dog treat and you just….did it?

[baji bites his lip and nods]

chifuyu: baji…seriously?

baji: it was a double dog dare!

chifuyu: so?!

baji: fuyu…you can’t not do a double dog dare

[kazutora nods enthusiastically beside him]

kazutora: it makes you look lame as fuck

[chifuyu is clearly at a loss for words and just continues to keep his head buried in his hands]

baji: fuyu?

[chifuyu ignores him at first, still clearly trying to keep it together]

baji: fuyu..?

[chifuyu sighs, swiftly lifting his head, exasperated]

chifuyu: what.

baji: could you answer the question please?

chifuyu: what question?

baji: like what’s going to happen to me…hypothetically?

kazutora: is baji gonna die?

chifuyu: holy shit

baji: please!

kazutora: if you die can i have your boots?

baji: what? why? they don’t even fit you

kazutora: so? i want them

kazutora: if you die

chifuyu: he’s not going to die because he ate a fucking dog treat

[baji looks clearly relieved]

baji: oh thank god, i was scared for a while there

kazutora: so what’s going to happen?

[chifuyu looks at them both like they grew two heads]

chifuyu: nothing? if anything it just tasted nasty

baji: oh yeah it was gross

kazutora: he almost threw up!

baji: that’s why we put it back

[chifuyu slowly lifts his head, shaking it slightly. he pauses when he hears this and looks at them both once again, like they’ve grown two heads]

chifuyu: you what?

baji: we…put it back?

chifuyu: like in the bins with the tongs?

[baji and kazutora both nod]

chifuyu: guys- why would you- we can’t sell that

kazutora: why not?

chifuyu: because there’s a bite- oh my god just both of you go. get rid of it

[baji and kazutora both stand up and head towards the door]

baji: fuyu?

chifuyu: yes baji?

baji: what do we do with it?

chifuyu: i honestly don’t care at this point just- feed it to the dogs or throw it out it doesn’t matter

[they both nod and kazutora opens the door, going to step back outside]

chifuyu: hold on

[they both stop, turning back to face him]

chifuyu: while you’re down there can you please restock the dog toys? the end caps are starting to look empty

baji: aw man

kazutora: at least you’ll get more time to think of my dare!

[baji grins mischievously]

baji: oh don’t you worry, ive already thought of it

[they both go to walk out the door again, chattering as they do]

chifuyu: wait.

[the chattering stops and they both turn to look at him once more]

chifuyu: if i come downstairs and kazutora is eating a dog treat im breaking up with both of you and you’re fired

baji: got it

[kazutora salutes]

kazutora: understood!

[tinkerbelle05]

Snuggle Bug

Characters: 1610!Miles Morales x Black!Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Miles is such a snuggle bug.

Warnings: none :)

“How long has it been since you've seen the sun?” You jokingly asked Miles. Rather than his desk being filled with pens and sketchbooks, textbooks and pencils replaced them.

You watched in amusement as he lets out a scream, clearly not expecting you. “How did you get in here?”

“Well when two people love each other very much-” You were interrupted with a pillow thrown at you. “Okay, okay, no need to be so aggressive.” You looked over at his desk, “What test?”

“Uh Trig,” he responded.

You give out a wince to it. You never liked Trig or math in general. Plus the teacher was a hag with a terrible wig.

“Maybe you should take a break. Take a nap with me,” you suggest to him slyly.

“As much as I would love that, I have to study for this test next week,” he tells you. “But afterwards, I promise.”

You fix him a look and rolled your eyes, “Okay fine. In the meanwhile, can I look at my pictures?”

“Fine,” he huffed out and went back to studying.

Smiling with joy, you went to Miles’ sketchbook collection and looked for the one with your name on it. He had a whole book dedicated to you in multiple styles and mediums.

Some were realism while other cartoonish. Sometimes he used nothing but graphite pencils and the white of the page while other times he used markers, colored pencils and pens all in one drawing.

You could get lost in the pages, feel giddy every time you saw a new drawing of you. It made you feel loved.

“Okay, I’m done.” Miles announces and stretches his body causing bones to crack and pop.

“Wow, who knew you were such an old man,” you muttered under your breath, eyes still in the book.

Suddenly you felt a large weight on your back, trapping you in the bed. It could only be one person.

Miles snuggled into the nook of your neck and you hear a muffled no. Then soft snores reach your ear and you let out a sigh as you subsumed to your fate as a human bed.

You light jabbed Miles with your elbow because if he's going to use you like this, the absolute least he could do is help you get your bonnet. This hair wasn't cheap.

“Okay, okay I’m gonna get it,” he said groggily and wiped the sleep from his eyes. He extended his arm and you grabbed it immediately.

“Don’t you dare use your web shooters to get my bonnet,” you warned him. The last time he did that, you literally had to throw the whole bonnet away. It was your favorite too.

He grumbled but got up to get it anyway. He gave you a warm smile before fitting the bonnet around your head gently and kissed you on the cheek.

He laid on his bed with a deep sigh but he looked at you with bedroom eyes, half-lid and a lazy smile. And you just sit there, on the bed admiring him. It was amazing how he could do so little and still look so beautiful.

“You gonna join me down here or…?” He questioned but didn't wait for an answer. He pulled you into his arms and returned his face into the nook of your neck. Eventually, your legs tangled and twisted together into one, and with your combined body heat you quickly went to sleep.

Tags: @butterfi, @justbeethings, @jam-skullz, @dreamxcollide, @shibble, @sleepdeprivationis4coolkids, @somber-starz, @maypersonne, @hoeboat101, @rosebunny, @midnight-the-shadow-wolf, @mur-docs, @eight-cats-in-a-box, @sawi-06, @707xn, @nagi3seastorm, @ghostsimp000, @cloudstrifefantatic, @vixqn, @yourtsahik, @spider-bren, @im-jisoo-im-okay, @andhdi68a, @avatarl0v3r, @randomhoex, @ellatienesuscosas, @m4rihrts, @jell0buss-37, @baddiebehaviourxx, @laylasbunbunny, @minimari415, @all444miles, @sheluvv-jen

Anonlist & Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info & 500 Follower Celebration!!

[pygmi-cygni]

T Minus 7

part four is here im so sorry

i feel terrible i dipped out for two weeks and all i have to show for it is this piece of garbage

good luck

cw: nothing just tension (are you bored be honest) and mention of vomit.

Masterlist

Ben was in mid sentence when you flung open the door to his office. The window shattered as it bounced violently off the wall. Every med tech in the room froze, glittering dusk spreading over the floor. the shards crunched under your footsteps as you came nose to nose with Ben. Your cheeks were on fire, chest heaving. Breathe. Breathe.

"You drugged my patient," you spat, flinging the clipboard at your boss. A few interns skittered backwards, murmuring concern. Ben dodged the flying paper, swearing.

"What the hell-"

"Miguel O'Hara," you seethed, "Spiderman of Universe 2099-A. Was specifically given to me to care for, and yet I found a drug that I did not administer in his bloodstream." You punctuated this bombshell with a snarl, jabbing roughly at the file summary.

Ben adjusted his glasses. "Now, now calm down a second-"

"He was getting better and now he's a rabid animal!" Your shout echoed across the whole med bay. Logic had gone out the window; you were far too focused on finding answers.

"Do you see what has happened to him?" Miguel was prone on a cot, tubes shoved into his throat. "He's tied up there for no reason other than the side effects of whatever cocktail you gave him without telling me."

Ben shot a look at the hovering interns, who quickly dispersed. Still calm as a breeze, he sat and gestured for you to do the same. Folding your arms, you didn't budge. Anger had blurred the edges of your vision and highlighted his nonchalant expression. You could smell the cold sweat gathering along his hairline.

Be scared, you coward.

He sighed again. "I'm sorry for the confusion. But this situation...is worse than you understand."

"Then make me understand," you bit back.

Ben was clearly disgruntled with your stern attitude. He hesitated, then pulled up a few documents for you to look at.

"Miguel has serious attitude problems," he said, "as I'm sure you've noticed. His extreme anger and violent reactions are a result of hormone imbalances from his unstable splicing with a spider breed."

Sitting back, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow. You mirrored his expression. When it was clear that was the only explanation he'd give you, you snorted.

"Yeah, okay. Why did you give him that drug? What even is that?"

Ben stood, jaw ticking. The smell of his own endorphins was stronger, making your nose twitch. Let him get mad. If he yelled, you could yell right back.

"I've given you all the information you need. I don't think you're the right nurse for this-"

Your palm cracked across his face before you could think about it. He flinched, skin flaring up at the contact. Pride roared in your chest, despite the waver of regret.

Ben leaned forward and snatched the ID from your jacket. "You're done," he said coldly.

A low buzz rang through your head, chilling your blood. The uncertainty and anger mixed in a disgusting whirlpool in your stomach, urging you to hurl in a garbage can. You swallowed it down proudly and stormed out without another word.

"So who's taking care of Miguel?" Your friend chewed her thumb nervously after you told her the story. Yeah, it was classified, but you didn't owe Ben shit anymore.

"I...dunno," you exhaled, scrubbing a palm over your face. You hadn't thought this through at all. Maria's gaze softened when she took in your terrified expression.

You'd been a mess since you arrived home; immediately vomiting in the sink and having a panic attack on the bathroom floor. Maria almost called the med bay before you blubbered about the situation. She was shocked at the state of O'Hara.

The idea of leaving him in the med bay with some random nurse made your chest twist. He'd had such a hard time with the needles...and the thought of Ben running the doses fired up your anger. You'd gotten along with the head doctor, but something about him always rubbed you the wrong way.

"I need to sleep on it," you mumbled. Maria patted your shoulder comfortingly as you trudged into the shared bedroom.

Foolish of you to think you could sleep. You tossed for an hour before giving up frustratedly. The sheets were twisted around your ankles and cold sweat had dried uncomfortably under your sleep shirt. Maria had left around seven, supposedly for a get-together.

The sink dripped quietly in the background. Low light from the oven glowed ominously. You shivered. Padding to the sink, you poured yourself a cup of water and drank, easing your shaky nerves. There was leftover pizza which you devoured in minutes.

I hope he's okay.

You buried your head in your arms, anxiety knotting tight and sharp under your ribs. It felt like all the air had been vacuum sealed out of the room.

Breathe.

Shoving away from the table, you slipped on your shoes and left, trying to clear the brain fog. A walk would be nice. The light had faded outside, and the HQ was asleep. The air conditioning hummed and faint sounds of the machinery was clicking, but everyone had gone to bed.

Out of habit, you felt yourself ducking down the medbay hall. The windows were all shuttered and the lights flicked off, an eerie blue glow under the doors. You'd never noticed how similar to a morgue the bay was. Unmarked doors, solemn workers and hushed voices.

You shivered again. Your footsteps paused, and you found yourself outside of a very familiar door.

Don't. Just go home. He's sleeping.

You can't.

Not having an ID made it impossible to unlock any doors. You pressed a hand to the small window, condensation from your nose fogging the glass. The faint beeps of his monitors could be heard if you pressed close enough. A small piece of your heart broke as you listened to the rhythmic beeps.

Your hand brushed against the doorknob. A small eep when the door pushed open. It hadn't locked.

Whoever had last checked on him hadn't locked his room properly.

Keep walking. Turn around. Don't.

Just a peek. You'd just take a peek. Toeing the door open, you clicked it gently shut and tiptoed closer.

Miguel was still pale and clammy, but the machinery had been reduced. You could smell his bandages from the doorway. Rot. He was neglected. The slow beat of your worry picked up the pace. Why hadn't anybody changed his bedding?

Something was up.

Impulsively, you smoothed the sheets around his arms and pushed sweaty hair off his forehead. His skin was flaming, and you flinched back.

Something hot and thick closed around your wrist. You froze, his hand holding your arm loosely. Miguel's brow furrowed with pain as he tried to keep his eyes open, and you gently prompted him to go back to sleep.

His irises were muddy with pain - sharp scarlet turned a rusty brown.

You patted his hand and peeled off his sweaty fingers, shushing when he groaned.

"Hang on," you whispered.

Breath held, you quickly peeked into the hall. Still empty. Holy fuck this is such a bad idea.

Closing the door quietly, you tiptoed over and carefully pulled an empty syringe out of the blood kit on the counter. Snapping on a pair of nitrile gloves, you pulled his wrist into your grasp and felt for a vein. You tried to add pressure to coax the blood flow. In a long, slow exhale, you swiftly drew up a few milliliters of blood. Miguel barely flinched, fingers twitching in sleep.

You pocketed the syringe and slipped out of his room. Ben had taken your badge but he hadn't taken your coat or your lanyard. You could still - as long as a tech didn't look to close - apply for a blood scan.

If Ben wouldn't tell you what he'd dosed Miguel with, you could figure it out yourself.

The bags for lab requests were in an unlocked office. You scribbled out a report, fudged a couple of numbers and slipped it into the stack of waiting transfers. Quick as you came, you disappeared out the door and back into the hall.

A few late-shift nurses waved at you, unknowing of recent transgressions. You kept your face calm, not betraying the stampede underneath. A few minutes later you were back in bed, adrenaline pumping after your escapade.

You woke up with cottonmouth the next morning. After downing a second glass of water and waving off a concerned glance from your roommate, you shook off the despair and tried to piece together what was going on.

Labs were backed up, hopefully you'd have the results by tomorrow. If all went well and the techs were their usual inattentive selves, nobody would notice your unauthorized request.

As the clock ticked, your guts twisted. Your gaze slid to the mess of Miguel's file on your floor. Jumping off of your bunk, you crouched over the sheafs of paper.

Curious, you picked one up off the pile. If Miguel's infection was even close to the severity that Ben had implied, he'd definitely have symptoms outside of a mid-grade fever and weight loss. That was standard. None of the nurse reports you or your coworkers filed had any reports of indigestion, bloody vomit, or something that would explain away his wound.

Huh.

Miguel hadn't hallucinated, fainted, developed lesions or rashes. The testing of the venom proved that red rashes and a pox were a symptom of exposure.

O'Hara's symptoms listed none of the above.

Puzzled, you flipped through his information until the mission report resurfaced.

Impaled on left side of sternum with approx. 8 inches of rebar.

His wound was on the right side.

Either somebody did not know their directions or somebody lied.

Miguel had one of the fastest healing metabolisms of anyone on the team. Probably the fastest. An impalement would have healed in hours. By the time he'd arrived at your office, his left side was fine. His right side had a wound. There was copious scar tissue all over his chest. The original wound would have been disguised easily.

Did he get injured again? It would have been in the mission report.

Unless it happened after the mission.

Dr. Ben had been first on the scene. He'd personally transported Miguel to the medbay. After that was the first contact any other medical personnel had with O'Hara.

Hands shaky, you dialed Maria.

"Hey," you jumped when she answered, "where's Dr. Ben?"

Maria hummed, ducking away from her phone. "I got him," she said, "what's up?"

Holding up Miguel's file, you swallowed thickly. "Wh...how big was the rebar that Miguel was impaled with originally?"

8. 8 inches. Say it.

"Twelve, why?"

"Nothing," you whispered, hanging up.

Bingo.

The two wounds were different. Miguel had not been infected by the original impalement.

It had been done intentionally.

You slid down in your chair. "Oh my god."

There was a notification in your inbox the next morning. Spitting out your morning toast, you opened up the lab report.

Hemoglobin, normal, oxygen, normal....the sedatives you'd been using were listed, an abnormally high sodium level - circle back later - and-

compound r4 status: abnormal.

Compound r4 was a norepinephrine regulator given to anomalies to control rage. NE was lowered to calm them down so that the spiders could transport them easily. However, if overdosed it had an opposite reaction.

Why would Miguel need r4?

"...has attitude problems, as I'm sure you know..."

Your stomach had plummeted through the floor as the fog slowly cleared. His sodium levels were high because the drug you'd been administering was a false. Just a saline solution, no antibiotic. His iron levels were normal, even though he'd been losing blood.

Miguel was fine. There was no infection, the venom had not come in contact with his wound. Somebody had staged the effects.

Ben.

I SWEAR I DIDN'T FORGET ABOUT YOU GUYS I JUST DUG MYSELF DEEPER IN THIS PILE OF GOD KNOWS WHAT AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET OUT

i love you xox

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @krakenkitty @ridiculous-hibiscus @seeeuspaceecowboyyy @neeshsoodrippedout @llumetrii

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 9 - Holiday Baking

Holiday Baking

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, blowjobs, oral sex (m), degrading nicknames (slut), but also sweet ones (baby), Dieter being a menace, drug use (smoking weed but just D), kinda sub reader, Dieter has dick piercings (sorry I couldn't stop it), housewife kink (kinda stuff im forgetting

Summary: You thank Dieter for staying out of your way in the kitchen. (I'm so sorry I'm this awful at summaries)

A/N: Struggling all around rn guys, but I'm really trying to keep this challenge up. Please leave comments/likes if you enjoy it because it helps so, so much in terms of motivation. Thank you for reading either way <3

***

“Dee!” you bark sharply. “You better get your stoned ass away from that pie!”

Dieter jumps away from the counter, not realizing you had stepped into the kitchen. He looks at you with his lips parted, a surprised expression on his face. 

“I was just…” he trails off and squints his eyes, obviously searching for an excuse. “...watching it.” 

You stare at him with an incredulous look. He’s always been a terrible liar–even when he’s not high off his ass. 

“Watching it..” you repeat slowly, observing as he begins to back further away from the pie.

“What exactly were you watching for?” you ask in a tone that suggests it better not to answer.

“Uhhh… worms.” Clearly, Dieter did not get the memo. 

You roll your eyes and let out a long sigh. 

“Tell you what, Dee,” you say. “If you can sit there on that stool until I’m done making this last one, I’ll give you a treat.”

His eyes light up at the word ‘treat’, and his mouth stretches into a goofy smile. He sways slightly as he walks over to the stool you had nodded at, taking a seat so that he can watch you work. 

“Thank you, Dee,” you smile at him, shaking your head at the strange being that is Dieter. 

After putting some Christmas music on to set the mood, you tied up your apron and got right to work with rolling dough. Within about 45 minutes, you had completely assembled it and stuck it in the oven.

After you shut the oven door, you turn around to look at Dieter, who is already leveling his hungry gaze on you. There’s a tent in his sweatpants, which is partially covered by his hand. It almost looks as though he’s been squeezing his cock to alleviate some pressure.

He’s sobered up a bit now, but it’s pretty obvious that he’s still mildly affected by the weed he had smoked earlier. 

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” you ask with a smirk. 

You know good and well why he’s hard as a rock and practically panting. He’s had to sit there and watch you flit around the kitchen with your cute little apron on over your cute little dress. 

He doesn’t answer you, instead opting to slide his hand over his dick again, biting his lip as he does so. You wipe your hands off on your apron as you start to walk his way, deciding to put him out of his misery. 

You sink down to your knees in front of him, ignoring the coolness of the tile as he whimpers at you in anticipation. You hold eye contact as you reach behind you to untie your apron.

“No, wait!” Dieter stops you quickly. “Leave it, please,” he says, uncaring about his outburst. He licks his lips as you stare up at him. 

“Whatever you want, Dee,” you say sweetly, brushing your cheek on his thigh. 

You let your hands slowly trail up to grasp the band of his boxers before lowering to expose his cock and balls. He’s long and thick, a row of piercings lining his shaft and making him more reactive.

“So big, baby,” you breathe, reaching a hand up to grasp the base of his dick. He groans when you lean forward to press a gentle kiss to his hyper-sensitive tip, already flushed a deep shade of red. 

He lifts a hand to thread his fingers through your hair, not pushing you just yet, but establishing the fact that he’s there and has some semblance of control. Encouraged by the light pressure, you stick your tongue out to kitten-lick at one of his piercings, making him hiss and buck his hips.

“Fuck—Stop b-being such a tease,” he says, giving your hair a small tug. You look him in his slightly hazy eyes and smile at him, ignoring his request. 

You glide your hand up and down his smooth shaft once, twice, before guiding him ever so slightly toward your mouth. You wrap your lips around the very tip and close your eyes as you suck, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum. 

“Tha’s it baby, jus’ keep doin’ that” Dieter praises as he leans his head back. 

You smile around him and let a pool of saliva build up in your mouth before un-suctioning your lips to let it drip down him. You pull away, a string of spit connecting you to his cock as you expose his wet tip to the cool kitchen air. 

He whimpers again, and you use your hand to smear the lubricant all over his shaft with a light fist. Not quite giving him the satisfaction that would come with having him down your throat, but almost like a tease, a promise of what’s to come. 

“Feel good, Dee?” you ask, already leaning back toward him to lick up his length. 

He makes a groggy but affirming sound, straightening his neck to be able to look at you again. His eyelids are heavy, his plush lips parted as he watched the erotic scene unfolding right in front of him. 

You slowly, one by one, suckle on all three metal bars lining the underside of his cock. His grip in your hair gets tighter with each one, only prompting you to go faster, desperate to have the weight of him on your tongue. 

You don’t wait another second before you do just that, sliding him into your mouth and bobbing your head, taking a bit more of him each time. Dieter lets out a guttural groan as you maintain eye contact, only wincing once he hits the back of your throat. 

“Yeah, jus–ungh–like th-that,” he spews, struggling to keep his eyes open. “G-good little s-slut.” 

You whimper, feeling your panties dampening to the point where they are sticking to your slick cunt. You ignore the feeling for now, though. RIght now it’s about Dieter. 

This time when he prods the back of your throat, he holds you down, letting you choke and convulse around him while he moans wildly. He holds you there until he knows you can’t take it anymore before yanking on your hair to bring you off of him. 

Even more sober now, he hops off the stool, his dick swinging in front of your face until he grabs it with his free hand to steady it. He slaps it against your cheek once as he watches you struggle for air.

You gasp for breath, only getting about half of what you need before he’s pushing you back on, taking over completely. You allow him to do so, surrendering to him as you do so often. 

“Yeah, there you go, good little cock slut, take me so good,” Dieter allows whatever pops into his filthy mind to tumble out of his even dirtier mouth. He uses both hands now to grip your face as he thrusts into you and pulls you forward and back. 

You brace your hands on his thick thighs, trying to keep your eyes open and on him. It takes about a dozen more thrusts before he’s starting to stutter his movements, his moans growing louder and more frequent. 

He stills and pulls you tight to him, forcing you to swallow his cum as he spurts it deep into your throat. You focus on breathing through your nose as he uses you to prolong his pleasure, groaning above you. 

“S’ f-fuckin’ good, such a fuckin’ mouth on you.” 

You shiver at both his praise and the lack of oxygen. After he’s done and sure that all of his seed has spilled into you, he pulls his softening cock from your mouth, letting you catch your breath. 

You lean back on your haunches and look up at him with a smile as he tucks himself back into his sweatpants. Once he’s secured, he reaches a hand out to help you up, getting you to your feet and immediately slotting his lips against yours. 

Just then, the oven beeps, signaling that your pie is finished. You pull away from him and sigh in feigned annoyance, not ready to rejoin reality just yet. 

“Guess I should probably re-wash my hands,” you joke. 

“Yeah, that’s probably a good Idea,” Dieter says, giving you a slap on the ass as you walk past him. “Unless you were in need of some secret sauce.” 

You playfully roll your eyes again. 

“Get out of my damn kitchen, Dee.”

***

Thank you for reading!! Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment if you enjoyed this!

Tag list is open if you would like to join for the countdown!

FOTJC tag list: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC Tag list: @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian

Link to prompt list

[folkoreluvr]

My princely beast | chapter one

Summary: Loki and thanos have almost successfully taken over the planet and have dispensed of the earths mightiest hero’s. In the action however, Loki brings Tony’s daughter to his grand estate in the countryside, addled with guilt for his actions as he begins to break free from Thanos’ mind control.

Pairing: Loki x stark!oc

Warnings: darkish!loki, mind control, captive?, blood, violence, gore, smut

A/n: after re-reading ACOTAR and watching beauty and the beast this little scenario popped right into my head and after days of day dreaming I decided I had to write it.

I stare out of the fogged up window of my bedroom in this strange estate, I suppose I should be more relived I haven’t been thrown into some sort of dungeon or cell. Then again, my captor decided to throw my father to the cells and keep me so maybe I should be more worried. I have spent three days here and am yet to come across my captor, I’d have hope he doesn’t live here if not for the group of servants potting around the place, each with a hanging fear over their heads.

I turn around at the sound of a knocking at my door. Helga, a maid, comes in and places a plate of cookies on the desk in my new cell.

“You should eat something.” She tells me, not a suggestion but more of a command. I shake my head, pulling my soft hand away from the cool window, wiping the wet condensation on my night gown. I have been left such strange clothes, some clearly modern but most what I can only assume is Asgardian. I haven’t worn any of them, only kept onto a silk nightgown that drops to the floor in a soft pink hue and my black crew neck with the words “stark industries” printed on its front in bold white words. I see now that’s it’s probably all that’s left of my family, my legacy. The great Starks, reduced to nothing at the hands of a cruel god. “He hasn’t poisoned it.” Helga stars again with a roll of her eyes. “He’s not been here to poison it and I doubt he would bother himself with such trivial matters if you seem intent on starving yourself anyway.” I grab for the pale cream cookie with anxiousness, watching Helgas face as I eat. I try my best to keep an ounce of dignity, but I haven’t eaten in nearly three days.

“Why am I here?” I ask as I finish the cookie, desperate to grab another and scoff that one but I’ll wait until she goes. Helga surveys me as I sit on the bed, my body pulled as far into itself as possible, hands clenched into fists. Fear. Im completely petrified of why he kept me and what he plans to do to me.

“I do not know.” She tells me, a bow in her head showing her honesty. Maybe that’s worse, if his intentions aren’t clear to his servants then maybe I should try and leave, run as fast as I can and hope to find someone out here in the depths of the countryside. “You are free to leave.” Helga tells me, as if she has read to mind. “He has said that much.” I only stare at her in confusion. He must be a terrible captor if I am free to leave. Helga leaves me at that and the second the door clicks closed I grab for the plate and groan at the taste of sweet sugar.

Afterwards, I look down at myself and see the dirt clinging to my nightgown and the messy nature of my hair and decide to shower, after all it’s very unlikely anything could happen to me in there. I walk into the vast bathroom, it’s an odd mix of old time decor and the newest technology. I fiddle with the knobs until I have it running smoothly and hot and turn around to lock the door. I pull off the jumper and fold it on the shelf but the nighgown I accept is a lost cause. When the hot water begins to cascade down my throat I all but groan, savouring the feeling of warmth and comfort. The shower is fully stocked with an array of luxurious products. I grab at the soap and scrub my body red and raw, desperately trying to remove the dirt from me but it clings to me. I slide down the soaked wall of the shower and sit on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest and for the first time in three days, since I lost everything, I cry. The pattering of hard water on stone drowns out the sound of my choked out sobs, as I heave and heave, searching for breath. After a few minutes I stand back up on shaking legs and scrub at my brown locks. I pull myself away from the warmth of the water and wrap towel around myself.

I step out of the bathroom to find the sheets of my, his bed have been changed and the plate of crumbs removed. Tugging the cotton towel closer, I survey the large chest of drawers, the top is filled with underwear, a lot from my own drawers back home and some of it new. Thick cotton socks are shoved into the corner and corset like bras are lined up in a multitude of colours. I pull out one of these corsets and a pair of my own underwear and toss them on the bed. The next draw is stacked full of nightgowns - again a mix of mine and new ones. The third draw is full of soft cotton shirts and leggings, along with thick knitted jumpers. The fourth draw is the most interesting however, I pull out stacks of thick leather, noting a deep cut vest that laces at the front and black trousers, ones that would no doubt cling to me like second skin. I shove the clothes back in the drawer and wander over to the dark oak wardrobe. All the furniture looks old, worn but the appliances, such as the large tv, new. It was as if the house had been left here abandoned and my captor had claimed it, that was easily possible.

I run my hands along the soft fabrics as I chose a dress. I land on a more earthly dress in a faded green colour and toss it to the bed too. Lined up at the bottom of the wardrobe is an assortment of shoes, red bottomed stilettos, country boots, leather boots that matched the other leather apparel my captor had left for me and an array of slip on shoes. I chose black ones with a small heel and dress myself. The dress falls to my ankles, billowing lightly around me, it cuts diagonally at my shoulders, showing my collarbone. The back laces up and I wrestle with the fabric as I tug them tight, allowing the dress to cling to the curves of my body. I slip on the shoes and sneak at my door, worried I’ll find someone outside it.

I pull open the heavy wood and find an unbreathing corridor. I keep my hands clenched into fists as I walk slowly down the hallway, my head anxiously darting from left to right like the god will attack me from the shadows. I turn at the end of the hallway and find the stairs to the foyer. I scale down them anxiously, watching the door with heavy breaths. I don’t see anyone else around the house, no cooks or cleaners but the house is in perfect condition and there is no way Helga could do it all herself. Magic most likely, dark dangerous magic belonging to a darker and much more dangerous man. I reach the bottom of the stairs and contemplate going for the door and running but I have no clue where I am, no coat or food and no weapon to defend myself. That’s what I should do, find something to defend myself with. I wander the hallways in search of a kitchen, hoping to steal a cutting knife, better than nothing. I find the kitchen at last but nearly grown as I find Helga in there, preparing a large chicken with numerous spices, I see bubbling pots on the stove full of vegetables and a tray of bread rolls waiting to be cooked. It can’t all be for me. Dread settles over me as I realise he’s coming to the house, to my prison. Helga looks up at me and says nothing, going back to her cooking, the knives are on the other side of the kitchen and if she is distracted she probably won’t notice me grabbing one for the rack. Attempting to be nonchalant, I walk around the kitchen Island and towards my weapons but before I can wrap my sweating palm around a blade Helga interrupts me.

“He keeps his weapons in the armoury, it’s in the right wing, the doors down and to your right.” I don’t turn around, or move or make a noise. I can’t help but question why she would tell me such things, what motive she might have. “There’s a chest full of throwing knives and daggers, ones with sheaths.” She tells me, not looking up from the potato she is currently peeling. “You’ll cut yourself on that knife if you keep it at your chest, the smartest place to keep a knife.” Trusting Helga seems stupid but she seems to have lied about nothing else and there is nothing malicious in her tone. I retreat from the kitchen without a word and stalk down the corridors, I takes me nearly an hour to find the armoury in the maze of a house and true to her word it is full of weapons. I find a chest and prop it open, fishing out a dagger, its handle is gold and carved with runes that match the ones on the leather sheath. A large emerald stone is placed at the hilt and I turn it over in my hands, feeling the heavy weight of the metal - most likely Asgardian. I shove it down my chest and stand up. He might he furious at me for taking from him, he might even kill me but I do not care, I do not have much to live for anymore.

With the dagger safely at my chest, I retreat and head back to my room but I stop when I hear voices coming from the kitchen, I hide around the corner, recognising the quick tone of Helga and the dark growl of my captor.

“She left her room?” He asks, Helga responds in a simple yes as she chops, the sound of the knife clattering though the room. “And what did she do?” He asks her. I still, the colour draining from my face, limbs shaking.

“Came in here in search of a knife.” Helga drones, entirely uninterested. I wait in heavy silence for a negative reaction from my captor but receive none, only an interested hum. “I told her she’d have better luck in the armoury and she left, almost likely to grab a better blade.” My captor muses himself with a huff of his breath and sighs. “Interesting…” he says. “Do relay my message to her.” He asks and then he’s stalking out of the room and I press myself as far into the wall as I can go. I thank whatever good is out there and he turns and storms down the hallway, not even noticing me.

Hours later, Helga stands at my doorway again. I put down a copy of “little women” I found on one of the shelves in the room and look up at her, wondering if it has anything to do with my captor and his conversation with her.

“The prince has invited you to dine with him.” Helga tells me, no emotion in her voice. My dark eyebrows furrow in confusion at his ‘invitation’. “He wishes to disgust a deal.” She informs me, I still remain frozen upon the bed. “If I were you I’d listen to what he has to say and if things were to go awry then… run like hell.” She tells me and then she is gone, shouting down the hall to be ready for eight. I glance at the clock and see it is in an hour.

After twenty minutes of consideration, I decide I will go. I keep on the dress I’m already wearing and ignore the makeup laid out for me on the vanity unit. My hair has now dried and I decided to plait it on a wreath around my head, keeping it up and out of my face, a practical hairstyle in case things go awry.

[it-was-funeral-grey]

Again (Ghost x F!Reader)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5(wip!)

Summary: Luck had saved you from death, and now it's going to throw you back into the life that you've left behind. Call you and Simon pessimistic, but you both don't think this is going to end well.

Warnings: Just a reminder that reader's CODE NAME is Dahila, reader is wearing a dress, ooc Soap? actually im pretty sure ghost is ooc in this whole series to (idk let me know), Simon is mean to Soap, mentions of wedding dances, falling backwards, vulgarities, injuries and passing out, mention of burning, a guy that can't accept a no, mention of sexual tension.

Word count: <3.7k

Inspired by: Robbers - The 1975

"There'll be a riot, cause I know you."

Author's note: ah yes, when i don't know how to describe something or get a block, what do it do? switch perspectives!

this is terrible im sorry i really tried!

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Soap thinks he has had enough surprises today.

It was one thing to see his LT rage at nothing. It was another thing to see his LT handle his weapons so clumsily.

But this? This takes the fucking cake.

The moment he took aim at the target's head, Ghost had decked him so hard that he was sure something had broken.

He's wearing a bulletproof vest. Do you know hard you must punch to break a bone in that thing?!

"What the FUCK, LT?", Soap exclaims.

But Ghost wasn't paying attention to him, currently engaged in a staring competition with the target.

"Dahila." Ghost whispered. He's turned to face the target, but even without looking at the tall man's face- or rather, eyes, Soap is aware that he's seeing a new side of his LT he's not sure he's supposed to.

The target - perhaps he should refer to her as Dahila now, doesn't respond. She's been chained to the chair, and Soap would have felt sorry for her had she not been his target.

"L…T?"

"Dahila, why," Ghost's voice trembles. "Why are you here?"

Soap's never heard his LT speak so softly before.

Dahila's mouth opens, but no words come out. Her face pales as she clenches her fists. She looks like she's seen a ghost.

Ok. There's clearly some history between these two, Soap realises. Tired of being ignored, he slowly picks himself up, wincing when his vest digs into his bruised chest.

"What's going on, LT?" Soap asks cautiously.

The tension was so thick it was making Soap uncomfortable. And he's a Special Ops soldier. He's dealt with worse situations without batting an eye.

Suddenly, Ghost whips around to face him, the softness in his tone now replaced with fury.

"Did you know?" Ghost fumes, stomping towards him. "Did you know the target was her?"

"The name of the target was on the file!" Soap shoots back, backing away from the angry man. "LT! What's going on?"

More enemies might come any moment now. They have to finish the job, free the guy upstairs, and leave.

Picking up the gun, Soap prepares to take aim.

"Put the gun down."

"Ghost, we gotta finish this and run."

"I said put the BLOODY GUN DOWN!"

A whimper comes from behind Ghost, cutting the argument short. In an instant, both men look back at the bound woman.

"Simon." she sobs. Her shoulders drop in what seems like relief.

"Leave us."

"What?"

"Go. Please…go," Simon sighs, shaking his head. "I'll explain everything later."

Saying 'please'? His LT was pretty much begging him to leave.

His proud, commanding LT was begging.

Running a hand through his mohawk, Soap lets out a frustrated grunt and turns to leave the basement.

Seriously. That was enough surprises for the whole damn year, and it's only January.

He didn't know.

He just clicked the confirm button the moment the job was offered. All he knew was that it was a kill mission. He had been so caught up in misery that he had forgotten to check the file about the target.

He was becoming careless.

He had accepted a job to kill her.

He had accepted a job to kill his Dahila.

A lot is going through his head right now. Shame, shock, confusion - but Simon being Simon, decides to go with the one he's most familiar with.

Anger.

But really, it's actually concern in a bad disguise. Not that Simon will admit that.

("Now, number two!" she continued, holding up two fingers. "Never, under any circumstance, attempt to access the server after you retire from service.")

Why the fuck did she do that? She knew what was coming. If anyone else had accepted the job, she'd be long dead.

She'd be gone, and he wouldn't even know.

She'd be gone, and he'll be the only one carrying their shared memories.

"What on earth were you thinking?!" Simon shouts, turning to face her. "If anyone else had been sent, you'd be dead!"

She lets out a shocked yelp, flinching at the loud sound. This stops Simon in his tracks, any anger he feels disappearing in an instant.

She's scared

She's scared of him.

And who wouldn't be? If you a were kill-on-sight target of the world's finest soldiers, you'd be wary of anybody and everybody.

Even the person you had just admitted your love for.

("Because I love you, Simon!")

"I-god, no- I," Simon lets out a defeated sigh. "I'm not going to hurt you, love. Never."

She doesn't look too convinced, teary eyes eyeing him warily.

The distrust stings, and he wants to disappear, to punish himself for scaring her, to cut his arms off to prove that he would never hurt her, but he brushes it aside.

Getting her out of here safe was his only priority right now.

Everything else is inconsequential.

("Because I love you, Simon!")

Even his own feelings.

Composing himself, he takes a deep breath. Placing his weapons onto the floor, he raises his hands, showing her that he's unarmed now.

"I'm just going to get these chains off," Simon's voice now gentler as he takes slow steps towards her. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

She doesn't take her eyes off him as he approaches her and bends down to inspect the chain.

A while ago, if anyone had told Simon that he'd have her undivided attention, he would have been over the moon.

But not like this. And Simon swears that once he gets her to safety, he's going to hunt down the motherfucker that-

No, now's not the time for this, Simon chides himself. He can deal with these feelings later. Right now, feelings will only get in the way of his judgement.

And he is NOT risking losing her over a stupid, emotionally fueled decision.

The chains are a mess, some looping through each other, others locked together using padlocks. Simon doesn't think he's going to be able to break her out of it without the proper tools. Which, of course, they didn't bring. They weren't expecting to save the target.

Which reminds him that he still has Soap to deal with. He's going to need to convince Soap to let her live. How's he going to do that?

For a split second, the idea of killing Soap and escaping with her seemed really appealing, but he quickly dismisses the thought.

He did promise Soap that'd he explain everything. He'll table the idea of killing Soap for now.

The sergeant should be upstairs, freeing the prisoner he said he found.

Standing back up, Simon walks back over to his weapons, grabbing his pistol from the pile. He hears her chair shift noisily, trying to get away from him, and he makes the mistake of turning around too fast in an attempt to reassure her quickly.

"No! Hey, wait- I'm not going to-"

But then the chair tilts back a little too much-

The pain doesn't come.

Instead, you feel the chair jerk forward. Something has stopped you from falling all the way.

Opening your eyes, the first and only thing you see is a white skull mask.

Simon.

He's so close.

He has an arm around the back of your chair, his fingers brushing against your waist. His other hand holds your head, supporting your neck. His face is right above yours. And oh, his eyes-

("Ok, a hand on my waist," you had instructed, guiding Simon's hand. "And your other hand…goes…here!"

"Love, what are you doing?"

"Ok, I'm gonna lie back now!"

"Wait-"

Ignoring his protests, you lean back, and Simon scrambles to support you.

"Ok! Now lower me more!"

"What?"

"Lower me! Like in the video!"

"What video?!"

"Like those dancers in the ballrooms! Lower me!"

You were trying to get Simon to do a dip with you. After watching a video of a couple's wedding dance, you wanted to try it.

"Lower me!"

"I don't know how!")

His eyes gaze into yours with an emotion that you can't quite name. But it feels so warm, so calming, so much so that you forget that he's actually here to kill you.

For a moment, time stands still. The space around you changes into something more familiar, more like home.

It's just you and Simon again in the living room, trying to copy that couple's wedding dance.

("Ok, bend forward…yes! I think we're doing it! Are we doing it, Si!?"

"Love, if the neighbours hear what you just said, they'd think-"

"Si!")

But it's all over too soon. Simon looks away and leans back, pulling you upright.

"Are you alright?"

You nod your head.

"I… just wanted to give you this," Simon says, picking up the pistol and handing it to you. "I need to head up for a bit to talk to the other guy."

You cautiously take the pistol. Despite not knowing how to use it, the weight feels comforting in your hand.

"Just so you feel more at ease," Simon continues. "I know you're scared and probably don't trust me, but…I'm not going to hurt you."

With that, he turns around and leaves the basement, trusting you not to shoot him in the back.

The moment you're alone, you slump into your chair, dropping the pistol into your lap.

What the fuck is happening?

Simon is here!

Simon. Is. Fucking. Here.

To kill you! To rescue you.

You should be dead now! But you're not! Whee!

Why is he here?!

After two whole years of nothing, why is he here?

Conflicting emotions pop around your brain, and you feel like your head is about to burst. You press your hands over your eyes, hoping that the pressure will relieve the tension in your head.

You feel something cold press against your face. Your engagement ring.

Max.

Oh god, you forgot about Max.

Simon finds Soap on the third floor of the building, in a small room that reeks of gasoline.

He soon finds out why. In the center of the room, passed out and tied to a pole, is a man whose jeans are soaked with the liquid.

They were going to burn the poor lad, Simon thinks, watching Soap cut the last rope.

But then, Simon realises that he's seen the man before.

(He was wearing a slick black suit, eyes glowing as he looked up at the gorgeous lady he was kneeling for. He had a ring box in one hand and the other over his heart.)

It's him.

The fiancé.

Simon has to fight the urge to pull out his lighter and-

"So, gonna tell me what's up, LT?" Soap huffs, interrupting Simon's murderous thoughts.

Good question, Johnny. What is happening?

Oh, the love of my life - who I left two years ago to go on THAT mission- is actually the agent we've been sent to kill. And lying on the floor over there, like a pathetic dog, is her new fiancé. My heart is in shambles just thinking about them together. That's why I was acting so strange earlier! Now, we can't kill her. If you try, I'll burn you together with him.

That sounds about right. Now, all he needs to do is rearrange some words and voilà! An explanation that Soap would hopefully accept.

"We can't kill her," Simon replies, unable to look the frowning sergeant in the eye. "She's…my recommendation for 141's intelligent agent spot."

Ah yes, lie to make it sound more convincing! Great job, Simon! Instead of being honest with your best friend, who you know for a fact would hear you out and help, lie! Not today, emotional vulnerability!

"I'm sorry, what?"

"She's," Simon takes a deep breath. He's in for it now. He can't take this back. "She's my recommendation for the intelligence agent spot."

"You can't be serious, LT!" Soap scoffs in disbeilef. "She violated server access rules! She's selling information!"

"We don't know if she's done that-"

"She's a kill-on-sight target!"

"Soap, I know it looks bad, but-"

A faint jingling, followed by a heavy dragging sound, interrupts the two men from arguing further.

Simon immediately lifts a finger to his lips, gesturing to Soap to prepare for a fight. Nicking a pistol from Soap's thigh holster, Simon approached the doorway as quietly as he could manage before making a sharp turn into the hallway and seeing-

Your legs really hurt.

And so do your arms, but at least they aren't bleeding. Much.

The way the chains secured you to the chair looked complicated, but you quickly realised that there were only two parts to this whole puzzle after bending and twisting around weirdly in the chair.

One: A set of chains secured your ankles together. Not so much so that your legs stuck together, but enough to make walking a no-go. However, you couldn't tell what was linking these chains shut from where you were looking.

Two: Another set of chains secured each leg to the chair legs. The chain that was doing so looped into the chains around your ankles and linked itself shut using padlocks.

Since your hands were freed, nothing was stopping you from standing up. So, your next issue was getting rid of the chair. That was easy because all you had to do was…stand up and pull the chair upwards, past the chains.

That was anti-climactic.

Throwing the chair aside, you look down to get a better look at the chains securing your ankles. After shifting around and trying not to fall over, you find the two ends were linked by a padlock with a 3-digit code.

You tried easing your feet out of the chains, but they were bound too tight. There was no way to get these off. Not unless you were willing to try passcode combinations from 001-999.

But you have to get out of here. To get to Max. You can't let those two hurt him.

So the next best alternative was to crawl which was what you were currently doing. Well, more of dragging yourself, really.

Using your arms, you managed to drag yourself to the basement ladder. And by the sheer force of will and jumping, climbed the ladder and escaped the basement.

You could hear voices coming from above. Following the voices, you painstakingly drag yourself up the stairs, each 'step' becoming more painful as bruises, cuts and scratches begin to mark your arms and legs.

All in the name of love, right? You need to save Max. Your fiancé. The love of your life.

("Because I love you, Simon!")

It was a small building, so it didn't take you much time to reach the third floor, where you managed to locate the room where the two men supposedly were.

Dragging yourself as fast as you can, you're finally a step away from the entrance when a foot nearly steps on your fingers.

Yelping in surprise, you find yourself staring up at the barrel of a gun before it is quickly retracted.

"Dahila!?"

Simon looks into the room, signalling something before kneeling next to you.

"Are you alright? How did you-"

"Don't touch him," You reach a hand into your dress pocket, pulling out Simon's pistol. "Where is he?"

"Easy love, put-"

"Don't 'Love' me! Where is he?" You demand, pointing the pistol at Simon. Your arms are shaky, and you're pretty sure he could disarm you and snap your neck in a second, but you stand your ground. Or rather, lie on your ground.

"Put it down, lass." Someone warns. It's the mohawk guy from before. He's come out of the room and has a rifle aimed at you.

"Ok, both of you! Enough!" Simon orders, shifting to block you from the rifle. "Guns down! Now, Soap!"

Soap reluctantly obliges, eyes glaring at yours. Simon then turns to you, raising his hands up in surrender.

"Lo- Dahila, if you're asking about the other gent we found, he's in here," He motions to the room. "He's fine."

Simon shifts back slowly, allowing you space to move in front of the door. Lowering your gun, you drag yourself to the entrance and look in. There he was. But he wasn't moving.

"What did you do to him?" you yelled, turning to Simon. "You said that he was fine!"

"He's just passed out. Was like that when he found him." Simon replies, pointing a thumb at Soap behind him. Soap just shrugs, supporting what Simon said.

The gasoline was pungent and stung as it made contact with your wounds, but you press on, dragging yourself closer to Max.

"Max," you whisper, cupping his face gently. You shift to kneel beside him as you check him for injuries. His breath was steady, and he didn't seem to have any visible injuries, to your relief. "Oh, Max…I'm so sorry."

Your eyes begin to water again. This was all your fault. What was supposed to be a happy holiday has turned into a nightmare. Ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and now you're going to die.

"He has nothing to do with this," your voice quivers as tears begin to fall. "It was all me. Kill me and leave him alone."

Even though you had assumed they would save Max, thinking of him as a prisoner of your captors, that wasn't a guarantee. In the end, Max's life is still at the mercy of others. It's just a matter of who.

And that's why you did all this, right? To give Max a fighting chance at surviving this whole shitshow. Under Samuel, it was undeniable that he'd be killed. But the Special Ops may give him a chance.

So, you beg.

"Please, kill me if you must," you're sobbing again as you hold Max's hand. "Please, spare his life. He's just a banker, he's just a civilian- he's innocent, plea-"

"We're not killing either of you folks," Soap interrupts, sighing as he looks away from your crying figure. "We're just gonna bring him back to the base for observation."

Relief blooms in your chest, and you drop Max's hand. He's going to live. He's going to be fine. They'll protect him back at their base.

"And as for you," Soap continues. "We'll be taking you back there as well. To see the boss man."

Huh?

"Yes," Simon adds. "You're my recommendation for our intelligence agent spot, remember? You're going to need to speak with the Captain first."

What?

Simon's giving you a weird look. He's giving you that look. No, not THAT kind of look.

(This sucks. You want to leave.

But you can't really leave your own shop.

"So, Miss Flower," the man in an ugly green suit smiles. "How about we go in the back and…play amongst the flowers?"

Ugh. This is the fourth time this week he's tried to flirt with you. He really can't take a no for an answer.

"I'm sorry, but-"

"Oh, come on! I know you want it," He starts to lean in, invading your personal space. "I'll buy all the flowers we trample over."

"Love? Everything ok?"

A familiar, soothing voice sounds from behind you, and you stiffen as a hand snakes around your waist. You feel a warmth right next to your face as someone leans over your shoulder.

You turn your head, and there he was.

Simon.

He's so close.

He gives you a weird look.

Play along.

You nod.

"O-oh! Nothing honey! Just chatting with a customer here!" You stammer. But it's enough to convince the man. He mutters a rushed goodbye, as he storms out of the shop.

Immediately, the two of you separate.

"I'm so sorry, I just thought that-" Simon mutters, his hand doing a poor job of hiding his flushed face.

"No! No, it's fine," you cut him off. You're pretty sure your face is as red or even more so than his. "Thank you for dealing with…that."

It's so hot. It's cold outside, but it still feels so hot. The air has a spark to it. It feels like at any moment, the spark will set something aflame. And you kind of want to burn. Together with Simon.

You later learn that that is called sexual tension.

That very week, you and Simon start dating.)

He's asking me to play along.

You don't know what the fuck Simon has up his sleeve, but you nod, wiping your tears while you're at it.

"This is going to be hell to explain to the Captain, Ghost."

"He'll understand."

"How is he going to overturn a kill-on-sight order?"

"He'll figure it out."

"The higher up are going to hang us for this."

"Nah, they won't."

The duo bicker amongst themselves as they approach the two of you.

"Get the bloke. I'll carry her out after checking her wounds."

"Got it."

Soap picks up Max in a fireman carry and walks out the door. You wait until he is out of earshot before whispering to Simon, who now kneels beside you, inspecting your cuts.

"What the fuck, Simon?"

"It was the only thing I could think of to convince Soap not to shoot you."

"I left that life a long time ago!"

"If you want to live, this is the only way."

He's right. And you hate him for it.

There's silence as he tends to your wounds. What do you say to the man who broke your heart two years ago, and then saved your life? Do you curse him out? Scream at him for leaving you so coldly?

("Because I love you, Simon!")

Or you could just pretend that you didn't just confess your love for him on what you thought was your deathbed.

Yeah, that works.

There's too much happening. Too many conflicting emotions. You can't speak. Maybe it's better that you don't.

But whatever it is, the only thing you know for sure is that you're going to be returning to a life you thought you left behind for good.

You'll be working with Special Ops again.

You'll be sworn to secrecy again.

You'll be working with Simon.

Again.

This is going to be an emotional disaster.

Join the Taglist!

[craw-dacious]

Review of the making of the map by fox_pitch

I'm new to marauders, this is the second fic I've read.

Summary: I liked this fic, a lot. It was a fun read and I really liked the progression of both Wolfstar and James/Lili (is it Jilly? I can’t remember). A bit less angsty than what I usually read and some parts felt underbaked, but the author kept my attention INCREDIBLY. I stayed up about four hours later than I usually do binge reading this. Very good.

SPOILERS BELOW BEWARE BEWARE

Since chapters are shorter ill do bigger recaps infrequently throughout, but still little chapter notes

Chapter one

YES THEY’RE NOT GAY YET

Cannot wait to see this unfold <3333

Aw they’re so cute, definitely a wolf star focus

I hope this goes through seventh year so I can see James and lily play out

Chapter two

Why did I not process its the first day of term thats wild and crazy

Ok so lily still is buddies with Snape which tracks timeline wise I guess

Do they pants him at the end of the fifth or sixth year I can’t remember

I am confused on the lily dynamic tbh what does she think of the group

Chapter three

This one kinda ate, im liking the short chapters I get more invested in each part of the story

Obviously I know they’re not just gonna kill off Peter, but him dying in the shack did cross my mind

I wonder when lupin gets the potion stuff

Chapter four

MURDER MYSTORY??? HOW FUN

I hope remus gets over himself soon how was Sirius supposed to know how intense the situation was bruh

Blanket statement that I apologize for all shitty teenage boy behavior they need to chill

Chapter five

Calling him inbred is hilarious Im liking remus’s pov

Hes gay James stop

Literally he’s gonna go be ur wingman be happy

Good chapter very chill

RECAP FIRST FIVE CHAPTERS

I like the silliness thats been in this so far. I am NOT liking that remus and Sirius aren’t talking to each other. Is it a narrative device? Absolutely. But I despise it so much.

I think Sirius’ characterization is very good so far, I’m surprised they haven’t fleshed out the Regulus stuff more yet. Hopefully will get his pov soon

God I hope this is a save reggie fic cmon

I really hope this passage is the one to honey dukes.

Im sure the plots about to pick up more since they’re actually making the map

Chapter six

If I was lily I would’ve folded so fucking fast bruh

Like I know he’s annoying but like he’s cute, and likes her so much, and is clearly like progressive what is the problem

Anyway, sirius needs to chill if he wants to be gay

Chapter seven

Closet time closet time its time to be emotional in the closetttt

Calling him a cat is funny

Sirius is my fave because he’s also like a fixer upper with issues but he’s not EVILL he just has trauma

And he actually wants to be the best version of himself yk (unlike some dumb ass fucking bitches I know)

Chapter eight

SHE DID NOT JUST CRUCIO HIM

Cradling his head

Sirius licking him

God can marlene just fucking kill herself please

Chapter nine

Honestly there is no world in which I wouldnt feel awkward with my friends jokingly offering to kiss me as a form of like emotional comfort like thats not normal

Like my best friend gave me a big hug after I broke up with my ex she’s not gonna go “oh haha idk what else to do other than make out with you lol lol.” Sirius what the fuck

Anyway I love to see the lily and James bonding but I can tell it makes remus feel lonelier

Wonder if we’re gonna get Peter development at all

Chapter ten

I dont even want to write uodates anymore because im liking the fic too much

Hes so stressed abt being gay I thought he already knew he was gay bruh Sirius is clueless obvi

Chapter 11

JUMPSCARE FANART BAD BAD FANART ITS TERRIBLE

Love how the maps coming together

This is not going over well with Sirius im sure

12

Ok so bed making out

Im so fucking horny I need to make out with someone STAT

Preferably someone with a penis bc it confirms they like me but tbh I don’t give a shit

Its 1:12 am

So it did go over well with Sirius. I expected some internalized homophobia or something but he’s actually being chill for once

OKAYYYYYYY RECAP TO CHAPTER TWENTY ONE 💋💋💋

so i got so engrossed in the story that i forgot to write my chapter notes

but so far i feel fantastic about it

LOVE LILY AND JAMES' DYNAMIC ITS SO GOOD

the regulus thing is making me want to kms. i have like no hope for reg redemption bc the fic isn't long enough, and i feel like all that happens will be the murder mystery and MAYBE gay shit

sirius was SO STUPID with marlene like clearly remus has some issues with being open and you need to like discuss,, not make out with some other bitch

also them both being bi is not what i expected? feel like remus should be gay

peters character is... interesting. why are they friends with him. also he has bo gryffy qualities wtf.

Recap AGAIN but not done yet

Ok, the wormhole shit is interesting. Poor elves.

I wonder what happened to them, is this the in between place or whatever?

They’re being too romantic on the battlefield you gotta lock in guys

Also I thought an avada grazing you killed you no matter what

Also Sirius fully used crucio and nobody like cared other than remus. Like no commentary

WHERE’S JAMES BRUH

Hilarious. Peak comedy. Coming back to life and IMMEDIATELY kissing Lily. Her being grossed out. Literally perfect.

Ok the introduction of the OOTP, seems good.

Honestly really like what I’ve seen in the fic, but it’s a bit TOO silly for my tastes. I need more angst.

Like obviously I want Remus and Sirius to be openly gay and in love but it was too easy in this fic, like with Destiel its always SUCH an issue lmao.

TOTAL RECAP:

I liked this fic, a lot. It was a fun read and I really liked the progression of both Wolfstar and James/Lili (is it Jilly? I can’t remember)

I do feel like it was a little too light at times, there wasn’t a whole lot of grey area morally, and a lot of big issues weren’t fully fleshed out. I wish they’d dived into Regulus more, and Snape. I wish they’d addressed Sirius’ use of the Cruiciatus curse, and I wish they’d address Dumbledores failings more directly

Werewolf shit was fantastic to read, the angst, the fear, the violence, the drama. I thought the transformations were excellently done and I really enjoyed the progression of them figuring out the roaming/playing

Hogsmeade passage shut off? Strange.

I did not enjoy that I cannot be sure they are safe. That’s a benefit of post-hog warts fic, if its truly marauders James and Lily often don’t die.

Overall very happy fic. I did love the aggressive use of drunkness as a plot device, I liked Lily’s characterization for the most part, and it was pretty addicting in the middle.

I thought Characterization was good, not fantastic but definitely good. Peter threw me, not very likable. It’s hard to do him correctly and have him add worth to the story, but I just did not like him the whole time, and I felt like Remus and Sirius both didn’t care for him and found him annoying.

7.5/10 <3

My rankings are not supposed to be biased. Horrible shitty fic would get like a one, something readable but bad would get a fourish. Most fics that I read will be around 7-9 simply because I sort by Kudos and get recs from misuss so they’re better quality to begin with.

Great light silly read, with just enough depth to keep it interesting. I could see myself re-reading this fic once I get to know the marauders better.

Also, I do not like the fanart in this fic but I'm sure that's not universal. The artist is credited within the fic but I'd like to tag them here just to acknoledge the hard work that went into it. I checked them out and ADORE some of their other work, this one was just not to my liking. They have some percy jackson shit up that EATS.

@komodokai on instagram

[justkeepdancing-nemo]

Finding Nemo: How To Land

“I’ve said several times that I’m afraid of falling but not landing. And the difference between falling and landing is that landing means that you can take off again...So, no matter how desperate the situation is, if we choose landing instead of falling, choose not to give up, and just land, we’re ready to fly again.” -Min Yoongi 

**

Summary: Robbie rats out Nemo to Marlin. They go on a road trip to bring Nemo home. Takes place December 14. tw: anxiety, depression

Part One: Failing Nemo Part Two: Something Else 

@robbie-ryeo 

@moon-yeongtae 

@baenxietydad 

Marlin x Robbie Texts

Marlin: [deleted] idk why I’m bother—

Marlin: have you heard from Nam-min

Marlin: Olaf called and said he skipped his exams and isn’t in the dorms. He hasn’t answered me

Marlin: what do you know?

Robbie: Im going to assume this is Marlin.

Robbie: Hello to you too

Robbie: Ugh, he left, though and he told me about it. I know where he is but I was hoping he would be back by now :(

Marlin: And nobody thought to tell me my son disappeared aiya this is great, I bet Tae knows too, eo?

Marlin: Tell me where he is. 

Robbie: he's actually with Tae I could take you there. 

Robbie: to be honest I want to go get him too

Marlin: of course he’s wife Tae, who else would encourage him to run away at least you’re more responsible 🙄

Marlin: So it’s far away, mm 

Robbie: yeah they went camping. Where are you I can come pick you up.

Marlin: In town, near the market

Robbie: I'll be right there

ROBBIE:

Spending the last what felt like 17 hours in the car with Marlin Bae had not been ideal. It wasn’t terrible, but the offhand comments about his driving were…annoying to say the least. Was it really so bad to obey traffic laws? Yes, he understood that perhaps they were in a rush because seeing Nemo and making sure he was okay, those things were important, but if they died on the way to the campsite who did that benefit? 

Anyway, they were here now and Robbie pulled into the nearest parking space and shut off the engine. The guilt bubbled inside of him as he wondered how furious Nemo would be with him when he saw him approaching with his father of all people. Maybe Robbie should’ve kept his mouth shut, but he was worried same as Marlin and well, anxiety did things to a person. Nemo would eventually understand. 

Maybe. 

“I think that’s Tae’s truck over there,” Robbie said, pointing to the familiar farm truck. “They can’t be that far–” 

Robbie abruptly stopped talking as he spotted Nemo. Nemo hadn’t seen him yet, but suddenly this felt like a much worse idea than it had two minutes ago. Nemo was clearly fine and smiling and—fuck he was going to hate Robbie.

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol was angry but it was less about Nemo skipping exams and running away than it was about…Nemo not talking to him. What was all that bullshit about how they were a team and in it together, huh? He let Nemo work instead of him handling it all with a second human job because Nemo insisted. But school, work, his Hollow duties, his social life…maybe something or multiple something’s had to give. He worried about as much. But always thought Nam-min would come to him and talk about it. 

He buried that anger because it was right to feel but wrong to express, and simply said. “Nam-min ah. Did you not think I should know my son is skipping town?”

Because look. The real root of his anger wasn’t that Nam-min must not be taking to school well, because he didn’t expect his son to be his mother. It was a little that Nemo didn’t tell him and a little that Nemo ran off and let Olaf tell him his son was missing. He was an adult and could make these choices. But an “Appa I’m dropping out and need a few days camping with Tae to clear my head” would have sufficed. Maybe he’d try to talk him out of it but he wouldn’t force Nemo to take his exams if he didn’t want to. 

Was he worried he would?

“You really should make your escape plans a little more logically.” He gently, sarcastically chastised him, moving to sit down next to him. 

He looked around at Tae and Robbie and sighed. “Both of you, forget how to speak Korean.”

NEMO: The first few hours into escape, Nemo felt amazing. Weightless. Free. For the first time in moons, there wasn’t something that he was going to have to rush to, or come from, or do. He was just going to curl up with Tae in the back of the truck and become a stranger in the middle of nowhere. He even turned off his phone, after fixing things with Robbie (kind of.)

And things really were good. That first night, they nicked into a gas station for snacks and cheap coffee. They listened to albums and talked and then went for a walk ‘round the campsite, just a short one, before falling asleep in the truck just like they talked about.

When the next morning came though, the pit in Nemo’s stomach had returned. His brain kept buzzing, telling him he was making a huge mistake. He was trying to ignore it though, because what was the alternative?

He and Tae were gonna go make smores– yeah, this early in the morning, why not?-- when Nemo’s choices caught up to him.

He spun around, eyes going wide. At first, his brain shortcircuited. How was Appa–? That didn’t make sense! There was no way he would even know that Nemo was gone!

Then, he saw Robbie lingering over his shoulder and everything clicked into place.

Nemo, at first, ignored Appa entirely as anger twisted his features. “You told him?!” Nemo shouted past Appa, staring at Robbie. “What the fuck, Robbie?!” 

ROBBIE: 

Robbie’s first instinct was to duck behind a tree as Marlin started casually strolling up to Nemo without a care in the world. Nemo wasn’t scary, obviously–Robbie loved him very much and he was so sweet and cute–but also he was a little scary and Robbie was actually sort of…impressed? Terrified? Of what Marlin was doing. It was probably all of the gnawing guilt making Robbie feel this way, honestly, and it was warranted. 

Nemo proved this when he immediately turned toward Robbie with rage in his eyes and yelled. 

And yes, there were definitely situations where Robbie would never betray Nemo like this, but this situation was a little bit different. Nemo was doing a very big thing right now–a very big thing that could potentially have very real consequences or spiral out of had very quickly if Nemo was left alone to overthink things–and telling Marlin was the right thing to do. 

Unfortunately. 

So, when Nemo yelled at him, Robbie didn’t cower or make himself smaller or let himself succumb to his guilt. Instead, with a sad look in his eyes (because hurting Nemo was never good or easy or something he was proud of), he just nodded. “I’m sorry Nemo, but he was so worried about you. We are both worried about you.” 

NEMO: 

Nemo wanted to shove Robbie. 

He wanted to kick Robbie.

He wanted to use his wind to send a blast of damp leaves into his face. 

All these cruel fantasies swirled in him as his fists curled, and the wind picked up and whipped at Nemo’s own hair. But just because Nemo wanted to do these things– punish his boyfriend for ratting him out, for ambushing him, for caring– that didn’t mean that it would make him feel good, or even get him out of the trouble he’d got himself into. No matter the size of the tantrum, he’d been caught.  And so as quickly as the wind picked up, it died, the air stale and flat. 

Nemo’s face flattened out too. He sent a glance toward Tae. “I’ll be back,” he mumbled. 

Then he stalked past Appa. “We can talk over here,” he said. 

He didn’t look at Robbie again. 

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol followed after Nemo, his expression blank save for a concerned furrow of his brow. 

“Nemo,” He began coolly. “Just one question. Can you even explain yourself?”

Or was he well and truly off the deep end, eh?

NEMO: 

As Nemo walked away, he carried his anger with him. It was a hot and comforting thing– bigger and easier to deal with than Nemo’s pain, his guilt, his worry. But it was also as fragile and thin as a balloon. With just one sentence, Appa destroyed it. 

Can you even explain yourself? 

Nemo couldn’t. 

And just like that– his anger collapsed in on itself into all the rest of those things, the things that Nemo had been running from. His face screwed up, and his lip trembled, and he knew that he’d disappointed Appa. He’d wasted the opportunities that Appa worked so hard to give him. He was ungrateful. He was a loser. He was stupid. 

Nemo’s shoulders hunched over, his hands pressing over his face as he began to cry. “N-no,” he admitted. “No, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.” 

He was talking about way more than just explaining himself. Right now, it felt like Nemo couldn’t do anything. 

MARLIN:

Rightly or perhaps wrongly, he preferred this version of emotional Nemo to the red hot angry Nemo. Angry Nemo lashed out and left little room for getting to the root of an issue. When Nemo broke down like this he was honest and Marlin could actually figure out how to help him. 

“Okay. Can you tell me anything about why you didn’t take your exams? And why didn’t you tell me uni was hard for you, eh?”

NEMO: 

“I’m sorry,” Nemo said miserably, still crying and hunched, hiding his face from view. Appa standing there, talking to him so calmly, only told Nemo that his thoughts were right. Appa was disappointed in him. He had failed, miserably. This was shameful. He was nothing like– 

 “I’m sorry. Y-you worked so hard to help me afford everything and I didn’t want to disappoint you. I wanted to be like her, but I’m not. I’m not smart. I just– it’s so much– I can’t finish anything. I’m always behind everyone. I should be good at it. Everyone else can do it and isn’t like this.” Nemo rubbed his arm over his red, puffy face. “B-but I can’t and I–I dunno why.” 

Why had Finn and Louie been fine? Why was Mim and Hunter and everyone else in his fellowship programme so smart? Why was it just Nemo who couldn’t finish the reading and who was so stressed and who couldn’t sleep and was in so much pain? 

MARLIN:

“Hey, no, none of that. I don’t care if you finish uni or not, I only care that you do what you want to do regarding the issue. I never expected you to be like your eomma.” Mu-yeol said gently. “You wanted to go to uni so I worked to make it happen for you. It’s okay that you’re struggling to adjust but it’s not okay that you’re handling it by just running away.”

He always did this. Sometimes it was maybe the right decision, but this wasn’t one of those sometimes.

Then again, what had Mu-yeol done when faced with his guilt, his shame, and his fear? He fled Korea and came here. They weren’t so different.

“There’s no such thing as a smart person, Nam-min. There’s people who are very good at certain things, but there’s no smart people. Surgeons and rocket scientists are just as capable of being complete dickheads as anybody else outside of their fields. Your area of skill is in dance and science, maybe not other areas uni is making you tap into and that’s okay. It doesn’t make you a stupid person.”

NEMO:

Appa talked very kindly– kinder than Nemo knew he deserved. 

And it was this kindness that made him cry a little harder. Appa was probably right, because Appa was right about most things. Wasn’t that how kids always felt about their parents? It’s what made standing up to them so hard sometimes. And it made leaving them hard too. For this entire semester, Nemo had tried to do his best, to be an adult without Appa’s help, but the truth was he didn’t think he’d been ready. 

“S-so what am I supposed to do?” Nemo asked– wanting desperately to be told the answer, for once. He’d really tried to figure it out himself, and he’d failed. Couldn’t Appa tell him the answer, just one more time?

MARLIN:

“Right. I think it’s very obvious you have three options. I doubt you’ll be allowed to make up your final exams, so one of these three things is going to happen and it’s up to you which feels right for you.” Mu-yeol said gently, reaching forward to pat Nemo’s hair. 

“One. You retake all your classes next term. Full time student. You stay in the dorms or you can move home and I’ll pay the housing contract severance fee. You might lose your scholarship but it’s okay. I think I can afford it next semester. Two; you drop out and come home. We can try uni again if and when you’re ready. Three; I don’t think they’ll let you stay in the dorms if you stay in school but drop down to part-time, but, maybe they will? If so you can choose to come home or dorm, drop down to part-time hours, and if you lose your scholarship I’ll cover it.”

A beat. 

“Also, you’re nineteen. I don’t expect you to have your life figured out or even know what’s going to be the right decision for you a month, six months, a year from now. But one of those options is the right one for you for the now. You have to pick which one, Nam-minnie, I won’t force you to leave or stay in school one way or the other. I presented you a middle ground of going part-time if neither staying nor leaving feels right. You don’t have to decide immediately either. Sooner is better. But you can think it over some.”

NEMO:

All three options stressed Nemo out.

He’d wanted to quit uni about 24 hours ago. He was just so exhausted, so exhausted that the only thing that appealed to him was what he’d done– gotten the fuck away from the campus, disappeared and become a nobody in some sparse campsite far far away. But of course, deep down, he knew it wasn’t what he really wanted. He wanted a break. He wanted help. He wanted a fresh chance. He wanted all of his professors to tell him he didn’t have to take the exams (this was super unrealistic). 

If he dropped out, he’d never be a dancer, though. He knew that. A fairy like him needed the connections uni could bring. So he didn’t want to drop out.

Full time filled his brain with bees all over again, bringing back the panic so big, he could choke on it. Thinking about it made him wanna hop in Tae’s truck and drive even further away.

So– part time. Part time it felt like was the only actual option, even though he didn’t know what that meant or would look like, and if he had to leave the dorms– which was the only part of uni he’d really enjoyed so far– he’d be so disappointed. 

“Okay,” Nemo uttered in a small, defeated voice. “I’ll…think about it, I guess.” For the first time, he glanced back up at Appa, his eyes still puffy, leaking tears. “I really am sorry,” he said one more time. 

MARLIN:

“You have to communicate with me when you’re having a hard time. I can’t help you if I don’t know you need help,” Mu-yeol said gently, resting a hand on Nemo’s shoulder. 

He sighed. 

“Since I know you aren’t missing and are safe. Do you…want to come home? Or no?”

NEMO:

Confusion fluttered across Nemo’s face. The way this usually worked was– Appa took him home. It was that simple. Whether he had run away, gotten lost, or had to escape from his grandparents, Appa appearing always meant that Nemo had to get in a car or on a train and that was it. It could be comforting, in a way. No matter how nutty things got, Appa would arrive, and Nemo knew he’d be safe.

He’d never been given a choice before. Then again, he was 19 now. 

It still, sort of, felt like a trap. He knew what the right answer was. If he went back now, he could maybe take one of his exams– his contemporary dance exam. Which was just a paper, but it was a paper he’d written the most of. Maybe he could finish it, or turn it in unfinished, and explain. It was weird– this had always been an option, Nemo knew that, but only with Appa here did things feel easier to think about. Was it always going to be that way? No matter how old Nemo got? 

He still hesitated. “Home,” he said, after that beat. “..Tae needs to return the truck anyway.” 

MARLIN:

He nodded slowly and held an arm open for Nemo to curl up to his side. 

“Okay. Sounds good— and you tell me when you decide what we’re doing moving forward, okay?” Mu-yeol said, voice even as the calm spot in a river. 

“You’re an adult now, this is the part of life where you make the decisions. I’m just here.”

NEMO: 

But what if I don’t want to be? 

Nemo didn’t say it outloud. He probably didn’t have to, as he accepted Appa’s hug. The entire time they’d been talking, he’d wanted one desperately. He’d wanted one, actually, since he’d gotten injured, but there was a voice in his head scolding him, telling him, You’re too old for that. Too old to ask for help, too old to rely on Appa, too old to miss him. 

“I don’t feel like an adult,” Nemo confessed this, at least. “I dunno how to be one.” 

MARLIN:

Mu-yeol smiled sadly and played with the hair at the nape of Nemo’s neck, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I don’t either, kid.” He admitted. “I’ve been faking this whole adult thing for twenty-three years.”

Some years better than others. 

“You’ll get there too, as you get older.”

NEMO: 

Would he? 

Nemo doubted it. He wasn’t even sure he believed Appa, who was always the biggest and most adult-like person in a room, at least to Nemo. He didn’t think that would ever change. Even when Appa was depressed, didn’t Nemo still expect him to know everything? 

The future just felt like a complex problem that Nemo was never going to be smart enough to solve. That’s why he kept running from it. He had to stop though. If he ever wanted to get smarter – braver – more capable – to be anything like Appa. 

After a few more flits in which Nemo lingered in Appa’s arms and sniffled and wiped at his cheeks, he finally pulled away. It was time to go, he knew that. He trudged back toward Tae and Robbie, and only when he glanced up from the wet grass did he see Robbie looking at him – he’d probably been watching Nemo the whole time. 

Nemo’s face went red and he looked away. He probably should apologize to Robbie too, but he was too ashamed. 

And so he walked past him again and went to Tae. “We gotta head back,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry for dragging you out here.” 

TAE: 

Tae immediately opened his arms and pulled Nemo in, turning so they were sort of hug-shuffling back to the truck. "Hey you didn't drag me anywhere I didn't want to be, okay? I love you." 

[lostnfinding]

ok honestly... you can definitely explain watt to me. it seems interesting and i don't have much to do :) -mango

tw for murder, attempted murder, stabbing, violence, addiction

and spoiler warning, of course

-----

the tigers are a really bad cheer team that consists on

Riley: senior, capitan of the team. pretty optimistic and dedicated to the team, wants everything to be perfect. friends with Cairo

Cairo: senior, was prom princess the year before (talks a lot about it on the first act). a bit aggressive. friends with Riley

Kate: junior, used to do gymnastics. sarcastic, doesnt really like the team, sort of in love with Chess (her best friend)

Chess: senior, used to do gymnastics but got injured and couldnt go back. she got addicted to her pain meds, and while in a game, she dropped Farrah (the flier), who got a concussion. best friends with Kate

Farrah: sophomore. shes an alcoholic and kinda hates Chess for what happened. Annleigh is her stepsister, but they dont really get along, Farrah tries but Annleigh doesnt really let her get through her

Annleigh: junior, really religious. shes Farrah's step sister and has gotten in trouble for not watching her before. in a long term relationship with Clark

Clark: he's a senior (im pretty sure? someone correct me if im wrong). hes also religious (tho i dont think he is as much as Annleigh) and he is the only one who isnt on the team.

Reese: senior, the teams mascot. she's overweight and has been bullied her whole life because of it. thats also the reason why she didnt get on the team for years, even tho is is really good

Mattie: freshman. she is quite enthusiastic and a bit awkward like you would expect of a 14 year old joining a new team. she is also the purest bean and must be protected even tho she can protect herself

Eva (pronounced like Ava): idk if we really know what year shes in, but ive seen her a lot as a junior. she appears on the first act to deliver a pizza, then on the second act she gets on the team

now to the plot:

act one passes on the annual sleep over in Riley's house. they all are having different problems and conflicts about being there, including but not limited to: Farrah being drunk, Kate just being Done With This Shit, Chess relapsing and Riley wanting everything to be perfect. Kate and Farrah end up getting in an argument and Kate goes outside to cool off, followed by Chess. When outside, they talk and Kate opens up about being scared that Chess will forget about her after going to college, and Chess reassures her she wont, which Kate doesnt believe. Kate goes back inside while Chess cools off, get mad at Cairo and goes back out to find Chess, seemingly taking pills. they argue when Kate sees that theyre the same pills she was addicted to. at the same time, Annleigh and Farrah argue after Farrah makes Annleigh drop her phone in an attempt to get her attention, since she was too focused on Clark. the phone breaks and Annleigh yells at Farrah.

*angsty song plays* Chess gets stabbed and is murdered by an unseen person

in the kitchen, Clark surprises Annleigh and ends up proposing. before she can respond, Cairo starts looking for her and Clark has to hide.

Reese has a song about what she wanted people to see her as and its a very nice and slightly sad song (Captain of the Team)

*angsty song reprise* Farrah gets stabbed and dies

Reese finds Farrah and while shes there, Clark surprises her and she accidentally kills him

Riley and Cairo get into an argument and we see how toxic their relationship is

Kate finds Chess, then everyone goes to them, and after that they find Reese in the bathroom with dead Clark and Farrah

they end up agreeing in incriminating Mattie, and she gets sent to juvie.

time passes and act two happens a few months later. Riley was able to get the school to give Eva a full cheer scholarship and is very optimistic about the next months.

Kate and Annleigh are both still grieving and Annleigh is very conflicted, since she thinks that Clark and Farrah were together, together and keeps telling herself she doesnt have to mourn them. Reese tells Kate that she accidentally killed Clark and Annleigh overhears and they start a physical fight

meanwhile, Eva is just there, very confused and wondering why the fuck did she agree to joining this team

they end up arguing and find out Riley was the one who killed Chess and Farrah. they want out and Kate ends up being stabbed on the leg. Reese manages to knock Riley out and they call the police.

more time passes and Mattie is released from juvie, the ones who incriminated her get trials and community service and the team is back together. Cairo is captain and Eva and Kate are dating. everyone realizes that life is hard but they are there and thats a victory. they all are healing and stuff, and they understand that thats okay

[caterkinnie]

The housewardens with an s/o that's very doll-like? 👀 Like they wear pretty pink dresses and have porcelain-like features. Maybe they enjoy baking lil treats for the boys too 🤭

Housewardens with a doll-like s/o

summary: You like to wear pink dresses, have porcelain like features and like to bake treats for your boyfriend <3

genre: fluff

warnings: none

HOLY CRAP THE BIAS IS SO OBVIOUS IM SORRY YOU CAN CLEARLY TELL WHICH ONES ARE MY FAVORITES HELPPP

No matter how long you two have been dating, he still gets pretty flustered when he's around you. You're just so beautiful to him!! Will give you little accessories in exchange for sweet treats!

I don't think he cares too much about your appearance that much, or atleast that's what he tells himself. It's kinda funny because he's a tiiiny bit more protective with you.

Grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one!

He will eat anything you cook for him unless it has vegetables </3

Y'know Riddle? Well he's worse.

You see, he's weak to pretty people, and you're pretty and HE FEELS WEAK.

He'll feel a bit guilty accepting your treats but you just look so happy and it looks delicious and he can bring himself to say no.

One of his love languages is, surprisingly, gift-giving. If you ever say you like an accessory or a dress he will buy it for you. Just give him attention later <3

Ok y'know Riddle and Azul? He's worse, so much worse.

You will need extra space for the amount of stuff he gifts you. He can't help it, Kalim just thought you would look cute in all those dresses!!!

He's a 'winning his heart through food' kind of guy so congrats!!!!

You two are so pretty it's blinding.

'I have never seen two pretty friends' situation.

Also, matching outfits and he'll do your makeup too.

Treats are an Ok for him unless they're unhealthy though, he doesn't mind them but loves more when you let him take care of you.

It's so funny seeing you two outside because he dresses most likely in all black, and you are wearing only pink.

Another one who gets flustered everytime he looks at you.

Like Leona, will eat anything you cook for him, anything, literally anything. He loves you so much and he loves you put effort on gifting him treats <3

It's like Idia but worse, you two look like polar opposites but also so terribly in love it's insanely cute.

He LIVES for your aesthetic and will give you really pretty dresses that remind him of you, probably black and pink since y'know. Matching <3

The first time you give him a treat he looks surprised and then gives you the sweetest smile you have ever seen.

[mango-bango-bby]

Omg ok imagine mafia Dabi and Hawks have to leave their darling with some guards because they are urgently needed elsewhere and when they return reader was locked in her like “time out” space and had bruises from the guards handling her too roughly. When they go get her out they have to like comfort her and stuff?? Idk im terrible at ideas

♡ So Mean ♡

(A/N: I hope you like this, I ended up not being to much of a fan of the way I wrote this but I hope you still like it!!! Sometimes I write and I don’t like the way it turns out but I just really hope that y’all will like it 🥺🥺!)

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, MAFIA AU, angst, abuse by Dabi and Keigos  workers :(

Summary: Dabi and Keigo find out their underlings don’t treat you the best when they leave (Yan!Dabi x Gn!reader x Yan!Hawks)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

Series Masterlist ➸ ♡

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

You hated when Dabi and Keigo would leave. You begged them to stay with you, but they still left telling you it would only be a few days. And it was a few days, but that was still to long to be under the care of their underlings in the Mafia. You were under the care of three certain men while they were gone but they never treated you with the care that their bosses would want them too.

You wiped the tears running down your face, wondering how long you’ve been locked in the closet. You tried to get out of your room for some food, as Dabi and Keigo’s underlings had forgotten to feed you today leaving you starving and locked in your room.

Apparently they got fed up with you trying to get out of the room, so they threw you into the dark closet and locked the door behind you. So now you sat alone, in the dark, hungry, and bruises on you from how harshly they grabbed you and threw you on the closet ground. You just hoped Dabi and Keigo got home soon, you know that their underlings will probably forget that they locked you in the closet.

It hurts, all of the places that they grabbed onto you from. You can’t see in the dark but you can practically feel the bruises forming. You honestly just wish that Keigo and Dabi would return home. Then you’d feel safe. You’d feel safe wrapped in Keigos wings while Dabi kisses over your bruises to make you feel better. God, now you’re just making yourself sadder and miss them more.

“Babybird, where are you?” You hear Keigo happily calls in a sing-song voice after opening the door to your bedroom, you hear Dabi enter too! You bang on the closet door, hopefully alerting both of them. You don’t call out for them, but your loud sobs and cries surely alerted them.

You can hear them both scurry towards the door. Not even bothering to unlock it, Dabi just rips the door open. They can always just repair it. Neither of them expected to come home to find you crying, bruised, hurt, and locked in a closet.

Keigo stands there shocked for a moment while Dabi drops to the floor to comfort you. “Holy shit, doll, what happened?” Dabi asks taking you into his arms, you crying into his shoulder as he pets your hair.

“They’re so mean” you hiccup, clearly talking about the people that they put in charge of taking care of you. Both of them go rigid at this. How dare they!? Their bosses put them in charge of caring for the most important thing ever, you, yet they mistreat you!?

Oh, the torture they know that they’re going to those men. Dabi and Keigo both share a look, after comforting you to sleep tonight, they’re definitely going to track down heir underlings who did this to you.

“It’s ok, birdy, we’ve got you” Keigo soothes, dropping to the floor next to you, rubbing circles on your back while you still are in Dabi’s arms. “We’re not gonna let them hurt you ever again.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵ Thank you for reading, darling!!