#likes them. and that's why people feel like their own lives are terrible. maybe just be kind to people? be a friend to people who don't hav

[loserdiaz]

I've been listening to the prophecy by taylor and i have thoughts, so bare with me on this one.

some people might look at this thing like a superpower, like something cool to trick people with or scare the shit out of them.

tommy thinks of it more as a curse than anything else. a punishment from above— maybe he's done awful, terrible things in some pasts lives and now he's paying the consequences.

truth is, he doesn't know. he can guess, can try to feel his way through the dark like a lost, blind man, but he's probably never gonna know why he is the way he is, why he can see the things he sees.

it started around the time he was nine, he thinks. when he went to hug her grandma, and suddenly he had this vision— like a short movie playing in his head, of how his grandma would die.

tommy hugged her and then there it was in his mind, he could hear her heartbeat and saw her laying in bed, so calm and at peace in her sleep, when her heart slowly stops.

tommy remembers crying out, screaming, pulling away from her in fear, much to the confusion of everyone in his family. his grandma was okay! she was right there! no one believed him when he told them what he saw, what he felt.

(nana june died that very night, in her sleep. just like tommy predicted.)

tommy realized pretty quickly that this was not something he could share with anyone else. not when he ran into his teacher at the grocery store three weeks later and saw how the woman would die in a tragic car crash in just a couple of weeks. not when he kissed a boy for the very first time when he was sixteen and saw he would die from a freak accident at a football game, of all places— a fatal hit to the head would be the end of a life cut too short.

his life became a swirl of death and fear and loneliness.

he pulled away from everyone. what was the point anyway? if he knew the end of their stories? why get atta hed, get close, when he knew the specific details of their deaths and would have to bare that weight on his shoukders all on his own?

(he made the mistake once of falling in love when he was in college. with matthew— a guy who would die of old age, at ninety-five years old. at home, holding the hand of his husband... that was definitely noy tommy.

it was okay. he figured he could have some fun and enjoy whatever time he could. but it only earned him a broken heart and matthew calling him a freak when tommy explained why he couldn't say i love you to him, why he couldn't truly commit.

he has trusted matthew with his deepest secret, with this curse that tommy has no other choice but to live with it. and it ended up in tears and half the campus thinking he was a psycho.)

since then, tommy vowed to never make that mistake again. to keep his distance with people.

and he's been successful, for the most part. he has some friends, of course, but he doesn't let his relationships get too deep, keeping everyone at arm's length.

it's for the best, really.

and he's... not happy, but content. maybe. comfortable.

until evan buckley comes crashing into his life, figuratively and literally speaking.

the guy is— adorable.

tommy has no other word to describe him.

evan is energetic and enthusiastic, passionate about every single thing he says and does. he's reckless and loud and everything's tommy has soent a lifetime running away from.

when buck touches him for the first time, it sends electricity to every one of his nerves. it's intoxicating and amazing and warm, and tommy never wants it to end.

then, the curse kicks in. a little later than usual— as if mocking tommy, almost. teasing him with a tiny taste of what normal looks like and then reminding him he can never have it, not for real.

the first time buck touches him, it's at chimney's wedding— he's drunk and sweaty, cheeks pink and flushed and a boyish smile plastered on his face. he practically draps himself next to tommy's side, leans all his weight against him as he hums the lyrics of the song plahing in the background out of tune.

it's fun and heavenly for a couple of seconds, until tommy gets the vision.

buck in a month, maybe a month and a half. hanging from the firetruck ladder as the sky falls around him, lightning striking him right in the chest and making his heart stop.

#idk what this is tbh #im probably gonna keep writing it tho #maybe(???? #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #bucktommy #kinkley #bucktommy fic #bucktommy wip #911 fic #911fic #911 wip #911 abc #911 on abc #april rambles #my writing #april writes

[cursedvida]

Clean Sky || Noa x Mae

Authors note: just a little oneshoot of this couple bc they inspired me so much. Not warnings, just Noa having a meltdown. English isn't my first language so i'm sorry in advance lol.

Humans were nothing more than echoes of a world that existed far from his own, outside the comfort of his village, and they had never sparked even the slightest curiosity in him. He knew they were wild, irrational beings, sometimes stealing ape's food if they weren't careful enough. Scavengers like any other animals, nothing out of the ordinary. Noa had never seen one in person, but he hadn't had any particular interest in doing so either.

Ironically, now he can't stop thinking about them.

Specifically, about her.

He often wonders what became of the human girl. Echo, Nova, Mae. As many names as faces, as many facets as secrets she holds. During the arduous mornings of work trying to rebuild the village, the young ape finds himself surprised more times than he'd like, thinking about how that skinny-legged, weak-armed human must be wandering alone in such a hostile world. Humans are quick and agile, but also fragile and delicate. During their time traveling together, Noa often felt that, if he wanted to, he could easily break her in two. If he had embraced her with the same fervor with which he pounced on Soona or Anaya, he probably would have broken her a bone. But then he reminds himself that it makes no sense to consider such a thing, because he would never have embraced a human, nor would he do so now.

Days pass and life in the village returns to normalcy, the routines that once brought him joy now become monotonous and bland, as if something inside him tells him that this is not where he should be. There is something within him, an inexplicable urge that pushes him to go beyond what he has always known. Perhaps it's because he hasn't completely shaken off the anxious anguish he felt watching his entire clan disappear, or it may be because of the infinite enormity of the world beyond the walls of his home he experienced during his travel. But at some moments, he realizes that maybe it's all because of the stars that, every night, remind him of the universe he saw through that human machine and that Mae seemed to long for as much as he did.

On clear nights, Noa can't help but wonder if the human is seeing the same sky as him, if the stars shining so brightly from his village are the same ones she can see. He never got to know much about her, and the little she wanted to reveal was probably lies, but there was something in her eyes the last time they met, a certain melancholic sparkle that has stuck inside him like a huge thorn he's unable to remove. He doesn't quite understand why the image of the girl's moist eyes comes to mind every time he closes his eyes on nights illuminated by the headlights of the universe, but every time he recalls her face, he feels a current that urges him to run away from there as fast as possible, leaving him utterly terrified.

He had never been interested in leaving his village or living away from his clan. His mother, his friends and the people he grew up with mean everything to him, and yet suddenly he remembers that human hands are terribly similar to his own, only much smaller, with fingers so delicate they almost resemble brittle branches. He had touched Mae's hand a couple of times, unintentionally, feeling skin devoid of calluses or roughness, smooth and soft skin that made him wonder how it could resemble him so much and yet be so terribly different.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #mae x noa #noa x mae #nomae #kingdom of the planet of the apes fanfiction #nomae fanfiction #oneshoot #kotpota noa #kotpota mae #kotpota fanfic #kotpota #pota #potafanfic #it's been a while since the last time i write something #not sure about this but i was in my work thinking about these two #sorry for the typos englis isn't my first language #just wanting to add something to the fanbase

[obae-me]

I like to imagine an MC with ~Trauma~ (because same) that is just completely oblivious to how much all the other characters will back-flip and change entire habits for them. Like, I'm envisioning:

MC is just casually hanging out like usual when some of the brothers break out fighting in the house...like usual, and the shouting and sounds of things breaking causes them to tear up and panic a bit. Although they don't really notice that for the next month, none of them get into fights and when they start to do so, they end up taking it outside.

Or maybe MC avoiding the angels for a good while and no one can figure out why till they mention that they're not used to people treating them like that and it's very unnatural. "At least being around demons feels more normal." And none of the characters take this well. Even Diavolo has to sit down and stare at a wall for a while and reevaluate his whole outlook on things. Simeon tries sounding a bit more "rough" for a while and it flops terribly.

Or even:

MC: Oh, there you guys are, I was wondering where some of you went.

*A few of the brothers lift their head as the human enters the living room.*

MC: Is there something going on? Why are you all here?

Mammon: Sittin' here watchin' the races.

Satan: Reading.

Lucifer: Taking the time to catch up on old Devildom infrastructure.

Levi: Playing the newest Hell Souls!

MC: *A bit confused.* So you're all doing your own thing...in the living room?

Satan: That's typically what the living room is for.

MC: But...doesn't that make you uncomfortable?

*All of them realize they've never really seen MC come out of their room unless invited otherwise.*

Lucifer: *Physically vibrating in his seat trying to hold back the "Take Them Under Your Wing" urge he's started to experience at least once a week now.*

I just...listen I know they're demons but they comfort they would bring...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #tw implied trauma

[priniya]

🔮 OPPOSITES ATTRACT

synopsis. a quiet slytherin and a loud gryffindor find themselves on a chilly evening, which results in something unexpected — at least for people around them. the oldest weasley’s daughter finds herself infatuated with nott’s only child and vice versa, even if their worlds seem so different, being apart just doesn’t feel right.

notes. theodore nott x weasley!reader. slightly sunshine x grumpy (pretend you’re a ginger if ur not). part 2 containing the date, thoughts?

theodore nott never thought he would be given a chance to love and be loved, upon all the terrible mistakes he has made. and maybe it seemed silly for a sixteen years old to say, but with an upcoming war, he wasn’t so sure if he could live through it.

theodore nott never thought he would have someone to call his own, someone to help him, when times get tough or someone who would understand him wordlessly. to be fair, theodore nott never thought he deserved anything like that, so the surprise on his face, when he found someone who was involuntarily willing to be his person was enormous.

he was walking around the crowded streets of the city, the dim lighting allowing him to see muggles running around with different expression on every other face he has passed — some of them were happy, cheering the slowly creeping holiday on them, some of them were exhausted and/or angry, probably from trying to find a perfect gift for someone and failing. just watching them gave him some sort of comfort, he had never had to look for gifts too much, his father wasn’t keen on being all festive and christmas was just any other day. the exception itself was looking for presents for his friends, which never had troubled him so much he looked exhausted.

he was in his thoughts, when he felt like he collided with someone. his eyebrows were squinted as he looked down on the red-haired girl, whose face was all red, either from cold or embarrassment. though, there was something so familiar about the girl that made him study her face for a brief second, the tea stain on his unzipped jacket didn’t seem to bother him at all, not as much as the familiarity of the girl.

“oh my god, i am so sorry, sir.” she let out ashamed that she didn’t look where she was going and that she probably ruined someone’s evening with her no sugar, lemon tea. it was then, when the familiar girl finally gave up and looked at the person she rudely bumped into.

“nott?” her words weren’t coated with layers of disgust and regret that out of all the people in london that night, she bumped into theodore nott. her words had surprised and confused undertones, almost as if she didn’t mind seeing him there. now, he obviously recognized his attacker — y/n weasley, a girl he sits behind in history of magic, a twin sister of potter’s best friend, someone who should hate him with burning passion.

“are you alright?” redhead’s question took him off guard.

theo was expecting something else, like a mockery of the fact that he was walking amongst muggles without hexing them all. though to be honest, theodore never hated muggles, well, yeah, he said some stupid shit, when he was younger and he was far from proud, but it was the need to appease his father. he definitely didn’t expect to see the worried manner in her, her brows scrunched as she tried to read his emotions, while standing in front of him in silence.

“theo…?” repeated y/n. he wasn’t alright and he didn’t know if he should show it. for merlin’s sake, he really wanted to get so much things out of his system, but venting to a weasley? he knew better than that — she would probably go around, and spread out the word about everything she heard from him.

nott was about to mumble something in response, when her eyes flickered with concern, demolishing all his justification why shouldn’t he talk to her for longer than needed. she was genuine, not caring that ron and harry weren’t on a good terms with him, she wanted to know, and help if possible.

so, theo simply gave up the act. “uh, no. not really.” he confessed, confirming all the suspicions she got to gather from observing him for a few minutes, when he thought of an answer. her expression changed from concerned to slightly sad, even.

before the boy could realize, he was sat in one of the small coffee shops beside her, a half empty, steamy cup of hot chocolate in his hands as they talked. something was so incredibly off about the way they conversed, first time in a while, he never wanted to conversation to end, just like when he was talking to his friends. his body itched at the thought that soon both of them would have to come to their respective houses and the talk would be just a memory that never happened again.

he had to admit that y/n’s presence was soothing. it was like the smell of a freshly printed new book, a cigarette on a foggy morning, a sensation of someone’s nails gently scratching the inside of his palm. the last one was a habit his mom developed to calm him down before she died, leaving him with an aching need for someone to find out about his perk and do it when he needs.

her muffled laughter filled his ears as he watched the girl cover her lips with a palm, he couldn’t help but smile. the gloomy atmosphere that he brought with his tiny vent was long gone, since she declared it her mission to make him feel better. so, since he wasn’t a big talker himself, she let him listen to all the stories from when she was growing up. even though he never experienced a family like hers, a family that cared for each other, it was comforting.

his eyes darted to the clock hung up on a wall, followed by hers and a long sigh that left his lips. his fingers ran through his curls as he parted his lips to bid goodbyes, though y/n was faster. “we could meet up here some other time, if you want.” she gave him a shy smile, the one he never thought he would see on her face.

y/n weasley wasn’t the shy type of girl, she was a big talker, a smart-ass with witty comebacks and a obnoxiously loud aura coating her small frame, though right now, upon his gaze that wandered around her face for quite some time now, she grew shyer.

“uh.” stuttered theo. “yeah, i guess it’s a good idea.” his reply made her smile go bigger, and in the back of his head, it felt like a reward for the decision he just made, some kind of reassurance that he did something good.

“perfect.” she grinned, taking the two of their cups and taking them to the shop’s kitchen, revealing that either she works there, or she’s just insanely crazy for barging into someone’s workplace as an unwanted stranger. “there’s a fireplace in the back.” weasley added, taking his hand in hers before he could even refuse (he wouldn’t though).

the tips of her long nails gently grazed his palm, when she led him the back, greeting a few of her coworkers. her touch on his skin ached, almost burnt, although if that’s what the insides of a normal, fireplace without floo powder felt like, he could grow to like it, only if a part of her body was pressed against his. few minutes later theo’s hand felt empty as he watched her disappear in green flames, having bid their goodbyes.

***

theo hated that feeling. this warm, strange feeling that coated his heart whenever he thought about the obnoxious gryffindor, who he met at those muggle streets. nevertheless, he found himself unable to think about someone else. he was replying to a letter pansy has sent him, and the only thing he had on his mind was y/n, he wondered if ginny told her about her little getaways with theo’s best friend, if all her brothers got back to their house, and — if she thought about him.

his hands throbbed. his fingers wrapped tightly around the quill, before putting it down on his deck. why on earth would he text her? it was one accidental meeting at some crowded street, one conversation that shouldn’t mean anything to them.

nott squeezed his eyes, the muscles on his face tensed as he focused on the paper in front of him, scribbling down a few words in his neat handwriting. a long sigh has left his lips, his eyes tracing the sentence he wrote for her. shit, why would he even do that? if any of his friends knew, he’d have been doomed — one weasley hanging around their friend group was enough, but he didn’t want to push draco nor blaise’s limits.

on a christmas’ eve, he went out for another walk, slightly hoping in the back of his mind that he’d accidentally bump into her again. this time, theodore would make sure to hear her laugh more often, to see her teeth, when she smiles or to watch as she gets shyer upon his gaze on her face.

his feet got him into a familiar looking café, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion — he couldn’t pinpoint from where he knew the place — and looked around. then, he heard it.

“theo!” a female voice rang in his ears. the boy turned his face, a smile slipping onto his lips as he realized where he was. the god damned café y/n was working at. “what can i get you?” a grin spread across her face, visibly delighted to see him there, almost as if she hoped for it.

her forearms laid on the counter as her body leaned a little closer, her hair pinned up in a ponytail that probably got ruined during her shift from running around the place, having a chat with each customer every now and then, a pinkish tint on her cheeks, maybe from the heat in the back or maybe, because he was there.

it took him a second to realize that he was staring with his mouth slightly parted. “uh—” he stuttered, getting a small, barely audiable giggle in response. “i just came to see you.” he blurted out. thank god his ears were covered by the beanie, because just by saying those six words got him all flustered.

“theo.” his name sounded so well coming from her. theodore wanted to hear it again, again, and again. it was melodic, like most beautiful song he’s ever heared. how could he get so whipped after one hangout?

“i hoped you’d come by.” she confessed shyly. “i have something for you in the back, could you give me five minutes? i gotta tell the manager i’m taking a break.” she beamed at him sweetly, rushing off to the back, taking off the green apron that hung on her waist in the meantime.

when she came back, she was still wearing the café’s shirt with a small, green logo, black jeans, and was carefully walking towards his table with a neatly wrapped package and on a top of that a plate with a big piece of some sort of chocolate cake, two drinks (the same as last time), and a cookie. her hair wasn’t in a ponytail anymore, ginger strands falling into her shoulders as she gave him the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

“you– you got me something?” a question left theo’s mouth, leaving him all surprised — the strange feeling warming him up from the inside. he took a big sip of the hot chocolate in front of him, hardly minding that he burnt his tongue, he didn’t want to say anything stupid. “y/n, we talked once and you… got me something?” he asked once again, not believing his own eyes.

the girl just smiled wider, passing the box towards him. “uh. yeah.” she answered, shrugging. “last time, you said that you never really celebrated christmas the right way, so… please open it.” she tried explaing herself, but gave up at the end, pushing the box further with her fingertips. “please?”

shit.

if she didn’t ask, if she didn’t give him those eyes and that smile. maybe he would be able to refuse, think of some lame excuse that wouldn’t hurt her feelings and give her the box back. but y/n was so sweet, and thought of him hard enough to prepare him a gift.

for half a second, theodore could see something flicker in her eyes, when his lean fingers gently pulled the green ribbon, ripping the gift paper afterwards. the gift turned out to be a sweater, a hand-made one that made the feeling come back to him.

the sweater was dark green, in the similar shade of his tie or the snake symbol on his robes, it had a large, dark blue letter T with a silver outline. his eyes scanned the piece of clothing, the corner of his lips going slightly upwards. “you got me your mom’s iconic sweater?” asked theo.

his mind was filled with different thoughts and emotions right now. he could never call y/n weasley a sweet girl, not because it wasn’t true, but because it would be an understatement — she was the sweetest, or at least somewhere in that range. his cheeks almost hurt from smiling at her, and never in his life nott had felt it.

“actually…” her cheeks started getting a little more pinkish than usual. “it’s based on my mom’s sweaters, i did it on my own. it might not be perfect—" y/n started rambling in nervousness, afraid that the boy won’t be happy about getting a meaningless piece of fabric from her.

“y/n, i love it.” theodore’s words were like honey to y/n’s ears, she gave him a small smile, not really expecting him to gently grab her hand out of sudden. the reason behind it? even theo didn’t know (probably to ease her nerves).

when he realized what he did, he wanted to take his hand back and mutter a quiet apology, the crime scene awkward as much as only possible. although, from the corner of his eye, he noticed that the pink on her face intensified, few more minutes of skin-to-skin contact, and she would turn into a tomato, so his hand stayed on hers, taking the chance and intertwining their fingers together.

“would you– uh,” the redhead started, stumbling over her own words, easily losing focus, each time his thumb stroked her hand, a tiny smirk hovering over his lips. “like to, uh, come here once in a while, you know… until the break’s over? keep me company, maybe?”

and he did. how couldn’t he? this girl was constantly on his mind ever since she bumped into him on the streets and spent literal hours at the café.

although, beside just keeping her company during the winter break — but also at school. he grew so fond of her (and believe me, it worked both ways) that cutting their fresh friendship short was something he couldn’t let happen. so… even though her younger sister was already swaying her way into theodore’s friend group, y/n seemed like a different topic.

theodore nott liked sharing. as unbelievable as it sounds, he really did. whenever he had something he enjoyed, he was willing to share, he was the type of person to give away his last cigarette to one of his friends, but the thought of sharing y/n weasley never crossed his mind. he wanted her all to himself, so… their hangouts always contained just the two of them.

small study dates in the library, late night walks around the courtyard, meet-ups in the room of requirement, picnics in the astronomy tower, while smoking some pot and cigarettes together.

back then, it felt strictly platonic. even if they called it their little dates, nott had a feeling they weren’t moving past the friendship line, while his emotions towards the girl were getting more and more serious. nevertheless, theodore was confident, but not confident enough to ask her out — to confess his silly crush without the fear creeping up on him that y/n would reject him and turn his dreams into nightmares.

***

the weather outside was getting better with each day until spending time inside the castle was unbearable. it was around the time, theo decided to finally push his luck and ask the girl of his dream out. ever since he woke up, he was nervously fidgeting with everything that got to his hands and when then classes were to start, it only got worse.

“you alright, theo?” a whisper left y/n’s mouth as she stood next to him in potions, her elbow nudging him lightly, trying to catch his attention.

merlin. the way his name sounded so wonderful on her tongue. if it wasn’t for the small attention-grabber, he would definitely accidentally ignore the question to daydream about how sweetly her voice is.

“no, i mean– yes, yes i am.” he stuttered. “i just– can i ask you a question?” she nodded, making his stomach turn around. “would you, uh– like to go out to hogsmeade with me? like on a date?” the question left his lips.

his throat went dry as he waited years for an answer (which was actually just about two seconds, theo’s brain just got really dramatic from stress), legs giving up, so he had to lean his palms on the table.

“f’course.” weasley grinned, not minding the blush that spread all over her face, just from the ask. “i thought you’d never ask, really.” she giggled, turning her eyes away for a second, before flashing him another beam of hers.

nott’s face was now bright pink. “i– what?” he was struggling to form a logical sentence. “you wanted me to–?” the boy was supposed to finish his thought, though it didn’t really sit well with snape who interrupted their little talk, postponing it until the evening.

the two of them were walking somewhere outside, laughing about something so insignificant, when the situation from classes popped into his mind. “so… about that date. you really want to?” asked nott.

he expected any kind of answer — yes, no, maybe, you should guess, nah — whatever was only possible. however, the feeling of her lips on his wouldn’t cross his mind. she kissed him. y/n has kissed him, leaving him breathless, when she pulled away.

“does that answer your question?” redhead chuckled, her fingers still curled up against the collar of his white shirt. he shook his head, still mind-blown. “yes, theodore faustus nott, i was dying to hear you ask me out on a date. whatever we have between us, i wanted it to move forward and go on a date with you.”

she laughed. “you really think i’d spend hours crotcheting a sweater for a guy i met few days earlier if i didn’t feel something? theo, i almost passed out when you touched my hand months ago.” another laugh left her lips that were now so close to his, clouding his mind with one certain thing.

upon hearing all those words, the boy couldn’t stop himself anymore, he pressed his mouth against hers, savouring the moment. cherishing the fact that she wanted him like he wanted her.

“the date is still a thing, yeah?” y/n smiled as her nose brushed his.

“you’re gonna love it.” he answered, grinning.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #pansy parkinson x ginny weasley #harry potter fic #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott fic #theo nott x you #theo nott fic #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys fic #theo nott rec

[lonelystarrs]

𝑫𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝑻𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉.

𝗧𝗼𝗷𝗶 𝗭𝗲𝗻’i𝗻 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

His gambling and betting habits often got himself into situations he’d rather not be in, it’s what landed him here at this stupid Halloween party with his utter goof of a girlfriend, but there were plans hiding under that ridiculous outfit.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI + smut + crack + size kink + ghostface! Toji + whip use + switch reader + mean Toji + public sex +

4.7k smut fic • I am unwell • enjoy my terrible humour. Kinktober

Part Two: Maid Zen’in

You thought you were real fucking funny didn’t you? Turning up in that ridiculous outfit.

Gojo was already cackling and elbowing Toji in the side.

“It’s hilarious, you sure got a keeper huh Zen’in?”

Toji rolled his eyes, thick shoulders hunching more and biceps bulging from his arms crossed. His ghostface mask sitting on the side of his head so he could literally drink his way out of this.

“Gotta admit, I still would.”

“Yeah? Feel free.” Toji sneered, trying so hard not to watch you but it was hard not to, you were busting out moves on the dance floor and because of the air filled suit, the moves were impossible to actually see them.

No matter where he looked, he could see the air filled horn bobbing around above the heads of others in the crowd of people at the club, the laser lights illuminating to the music as you danced with no care in the world amongst a group of people.

You said you were coming as a murderous unicorn, which was ridiculous enough, but what you were wearing was anything but fucking murderous, maybe to Toji’s ego and pride. The mane was rainbow, the white blow up body suit you had on filled with air and a pair of heels.

Fucking designer, red bottom strappy heels, in that costume.

“Yo, Zenin, isn’t that your girl?”

“No.” Toji denied it many times this evening, even though those asking knew otherwise.

Gojo cackled again, elbowing Suguru who joined the conversation as he watched you moving on the dance floor having far too much fun for your own good, the air filled suit making you move in a way that was fucking hilarious to the six eyes.

Toji knew why you were doing it, because you’d gotten into a argument this morning and he’d made a snide remark about something he didn’t even remember quite frankly, either way you’d fallen out and had been giving him the cold shoulder all day. Even meeting him here instead of coming with him.

Now though he was glad for the distance, soon as he seen you he couldn’t help but think thank fuck he walked into this club alone. He just had to bear witness to you flirting with the bouncers as they bantered with you about your outfit.

He wore a black tight muscle shirt, with black jeans, a holster on his chest with two big hunting knives either side and a ghost mask.

He looked like a threat, like something suitable for Halloween, you just looked like a girl living her princess dream prancing around like a pony. It was your whole idea coming to this thing in the first place and the only reason he was going was because he lost a bet with you, his damn gambling habit presenting her karma for him finding any opportunity to bet irresistible.

“Eh, she is sure giving it beans with those dance moves.” Satoru couldn’t help himself, his eyes were twinkling with amusement, he couldn’t stop watching you.

“I’m surprised you came, Toji, not usually your kind of thing.” Suguru at least was less bothersome on the topic.

“Oh look she’s on her way over!”

It was embarrassing watching you waddle through the crowds, beaming a smile that was only making his jaw clench and when you eyed him, giving him a flirty look of acknowledgment before changing your pace to a flirty strut, Toji nearly walked away.

“Hey handsome, do you wanna feed the pony?”

Gojo Satoru lost it beside you, bellowing a laugh at your over the top flirtation and even Suguru started to laugh.

“-cause you make me so hooooorny T.”

Your hands lifted to flick the bobbling horn on your head and Toji grabbed his mask pulling it back over his face before storming off to the bar again. Leaving Gojo to strut up to you and smack a hand on your shoulder in some kind of praise, perhaps he should just let you both date.

Perfectly suited for each other and the six eyes did have a thing for you, the sulking for two weeks after Toji first claimed you as his girl was enough of a clue. Let alone the remarks Satoru made towards you, his eyeballing and offering to date you instead of Toji.

But you’d always refused.

And he was kinda glad, as odd as it could be at times you did bring some fun to Toji’s life, a perfectly grown women when needed but that side of you that had zero ability to be embarrassed was troublesome, but at times entertaining. He could banter with you in a way he couldn’t with females usually and you only dished it back.

But the sex, fuckkkk the sex. You were insatiable and you’d even made his eyes almost cross a few times, how you sucked his cock was unworldly and lucky for him you couldn’t get enough of doing it.

Toji took a seat at the bar, ordering a strong whiskey to try give him some hope on getting through this evening with some sanity, how long he was sat there he didn’t know, but being alone only gave the opportunity for girls to come up to him.

So you wanted to play huh?

He could play, perhaps make you regret trying to show him up like that.

He entertained it, a girl in an angle costume coming up, her tits out held by some flimsy looking material that Toji could so easily rip from her, some skimpy white skirt that was hiding nothing, white stockings on show and pretty blonde hair.

She wasn’t exactly horrifying, but this was what girls went for this time of year, not like he was complaining -he was a guy after all.

She twirled her finger around a strand of hair, battering her eye lashes at him.

“You’re like, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh yeah?” Toji smirked, turning in his seat to face her, giving her the once over, “—how so?”

Toji played it clever, soaking up the praise instead of giving it just because if you were looking you’d be none the wiser. As much of a woman jumper as he used to be Toji was loyal when treated well, and treated well by you he certainly was.

The blonde reached out to trace a finger on his muscles, dragging an acrylic nail down the line between his bicep.

“You’re huge-“

“So I’ve been told,”

“Anything else big about you?”

Toji chuckled tilting his head to her when she bravely gripped his arm and squeezing the bicep, just as he was about to say that’s enough a riding crop slammed down between them, hitting the bar with enough force everyone sat there spun around.

“Hey angel face, he flexing his muscles for you hmm? He’s such a show off, thought I trained him better than that.”

Toji knew that tone, the kind that made him lay back let you ride him until you were spent, the kind that kinda made him melt a little inside for you —not like you’d ever, in a million fucking years, know that.

Green eyes turned to meet you, expecting to see you in that ridiculous blow up unicorn suit, instead it was gone and suddenly he was wondering where the hell it was so he could put it back on you to stop the amount of looks you were getting.

Stood there with the lights dancing around you in leather chaps with studs, a leather bra with a body harnesses a fucking pink gag horse bit dangling down your neck resting between your collar bones and bright red lipstick, hair into a clean, high ponytail with a crop in hand.

And he knew his dick was gonna be under those red bottomed heels this evening.

You had a black, glittery horn on your head that had red glitter spilling down it that imitated blood, along with make up running down your forehead in red glitter.

This was your damn take on a murderous unicorn?

The blonde went to open her mouth, but you beat her to it, pressing the crop under her chin and closing it for her.

“Shh, this guy-“ you stepped forward and Toji reached for you, standing behind you as he pulled you in, a large hand made its way around your neck to grip it from behind “-he doesn’t fuck angels, he’s too corrupt for that.”

The smirk that spread over his face was nasty, tilting your head back into his chest and pressing his lips to yours, going straight for your bottom lip with his teeth and pulling.

He felt you moan against his tongue as it swiped your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Playin’ a dangerous game comin’ out like this doll,”

“Yeah?”

Toji hummed whilst kissing you upside down again,

“Yeah, s’get outta here-“

“Or-“ you span around in his arms, leaned up to him and brushed your lips against his, “-we can use the private room back there for VIP.”

Toji rose an eyebrow at you, you only grinning at him and grabbing his hand to lead the way through the groups of people until you both reached a gold door, the bouncer there nodded at you and Toji rose an eyebrow.

Since when did you know people on that level to only be acknowledged through nodding?

Your back hit the door the moment it shut and Toji was on you within seconds, hand gripping your neck and squeezes it in the way he knew made your cunt clench, choking you lightly whilst tilting your head up to him feeling your little moan on his palm against your throat.

“What you got goin’ on in that head of yours sweetheart? I ain’t stupid.”

You shrugged, “-nothing really, but I am wondering if you wanna make a lil bet again.”

Toji rose an eyebrow, leaning back slightly to look around the room, it wasn’t huge, the seats were black trimmed with gold in a booth shape with a small table off to the side.

“Keep talkin’”

“I’m thinking, you let me take control and if you lose it I win.”

Toji snorted a laugh, “-you won’t even get my cock in that tight lil cunt without my help doll, you think you’re gonna manage with me just sitting back?”

“If I need your help, then I lose.”

He released you and stepped back until he let himself slump back onto the booth, spreading his legs and his arms across the top of the booth, one hand reaching down to unbuckle his belt and undo the button to his jeans, pulling the zipper down. His skin tight top riding up showing the lines of his V that lead to a cock too big for most girls to handle. The black pubic trail of hair also leading a line down into his boxers.

“C’mon then sweetheart, it’s all yours.”

He was snide, cocky with how he was sat spread out and you smirked at him stepping forwards, pressing the crop under his chin and tilting it up to you looking down on him, his green eyes glazed with sly intention, his smirk only aiding it.

“You’re not allowed to touch me, clear?”

Toji rolled his eyes and shrugged “-whatever you say, boss. You’ll be begin’ for me too long before I need to.”

Toji’s eyes widened when you actually smacked the crop across his face, anger filtered through him briefly at you having the fucking balls to even think you’d get away with it, but when he looked back at you, eyes half hooded with some kind of pissed off look he only felt his cock throb. The leather you wore was glistening in the low lights, hugging every curve and pressing your tits up perfectly.

“Less snark, Zen’in, it’s boring me.”

Holy shit —fuck you were still surprising him 2 years into this damn relationship, how the hell had you hidden this from him? You had attitude, that was never hidden and fucking it outta you was borderline impossible, but it didn’t mean keeping you fucked dumb didn’t work until you got bratty again.

He glared at you, hands balling into fists and his jaw clenched, the red welt forming on his cheek as he held eyes with you.

“Don’t push it,”

“I plan to, Toji, or do you feel yourself losing patience already? Might be an easy win for me after all.”

You litt-

Toji groaned, his stomach tensing as the ball of your foot pressed into his semi hard dick only encourage it to harden under it, his hips rolled and his head tilted back, keeping eyes with you as you watched his reaction.

“Been thinking about sucking you off all night, my mouths watering over it T.”

“As said doll, it’s all yours.”

You hummed and stepped forward, pulling his jeans down just enough to free his dick as it slapped against his stomach, pre drooling from the tip into the deep lines of his six pack.

“You’re drooling already, Toji.”

He watched as you lowered yourself between his legs, bending forward to run your tongue between the lines of his six pack collecting pre on your tongue, teasingly running it around the head of his dick not touching it directly, only grazing the tip with the underside of your tongue. Your eyes never leaving his as your placed your hands on his thighs.

“That’s it-“ Toji sucked in air, his muscles tensing under your tongue as he watched you, eyes focused on your tongue glistening with drool and pre.

You pressed a kiss to the underside of his head, peppering them down the length of him before your tongue pressed to the base and ran up to the tip again, letting a glob of spit drip to cover it. His cock flexed against his stomach, smearing the spit along his skin as it rested heavy on his stomach.

His eyes rolled back when you finally wrapped your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and sucking before bobbing your head with your hand twisting, keeping to the top of his dick and moving your tongue around the head. His hips bucked, fingers digging into the booths padding to stop himself reaching out, cause all he wanted was to grip your hair and fuck your face like a fleshlight. See how watery your eyes got, watch the drool spilling down your chin, see how well your throat bulged out from his dick, pressing his hand against your throat to feel himself fucking you.

But he was a man of strong will, even if his toes were curling in his shoes as you worked his cock like a dream, the squelching of your mouth as spit started to dribble down his dick. You kept going in the same pattern, twisting your hand when it separated from your mouth bobbing and sucking him in, your tongue swirling around this head giving him constant friction.

“Gonna suck the cum outta me? Fuck -hah- shit doll, that your fucking plan?”

He felt you laugh on him, pulling away with a pop and drool down your cheeks, red lip stick smeared on your lips and his dick.

Your eyes all glassy and panting lightly looking at him with fuck me eyes and his heart thumped against his rib cage, kicking away in a flutter that only pissed him off. He knew he liked you, way too fucking much for his own sanity and it pissed him off that you got under his skin in a way he couldn’t get enough of.

But how you looked right now? Between his thick thighs, running your tongue up and down his big cock that looked so huge in your hands, staring at him with eyes like that, willingly making a mess of yourself on him?

Fuck it took everything in him to not reach out and kiss you stupid, to bury his cock into you and let you cum over and over on him in a love language only he could give.

You didn’t reply, instead you stood and placed your feet on the booth seat either side of him, then lifting your right to place beside his head, hovering your cunt over him as you ran two fingers over your clothed pussy.

“No Toji, that’s not my plan.”

He groaned when you pushed the material aside, letting him view your glistening cunt as it drooled with slick. He was half expecting you to let him touch you at this point, his cock flexing against his stomach as his own pre started to leak into his muscle lines again. Watching as one hand spread yourself open for him, the other rolling around your clit.

It was cruel how you moaned above him, it was mean as you pressed two fingers into your tight hole letting him watch you spread yourself open for him.

“You’re clenching around those fingers, they ain’t deep enough are they sweetheart? Trying to act like a little whore but you can’t fuck yourself like that, y’need me, so why don’t you just give in?”

Toji reached for his own cock, wrapping a fist around himself slowly stroking.

“-sit on my face, get that other leg up and put that pussy where it it belongs hmm? I’ll get you cummin’ how you like.”

Pulling your fingers back covered in slick you toyed with your clit again, hips rolling as you lowered yourself to his face.

“S’it baby, she needs my mouth hmm? I know what she needs-“

“M’gonna cum-“ Toji hid his sneer as he watched you pick up your pace, rolling your clit around your slick covered fingers and he could see your little hole clenching around nothing, fluttering as you came.

His nice attitude left him, sneering an insult under his breath as you cummed over his face, thinking he almost had you breaking the bet by caving first.

“Open your mouth T, I’ll let you catch it,”

Green eyes focused on the clear slick starting to drool from your fluttering hole, a link forming and he held his tongue out, letting the sweetness of you coat it.

“You’re so fucking hot, honestly.” Toji hummed at your praise and taste of you, your foot retreated from besides his head, falling to your knees either side of him, eyes all glassy and pretty, pink dusting across your cheeks.

Your hand reached down to grab his dick from his own hands, wrapping a hand around him and rubbing his head at your hole.

“You’re brave but you ain’t doin’ that without me. No fucking chance.”

You hummed and let your weight start to drop onto him, the stretch already too much as his thick head pushed through the tight ring of muscle, both moaning at the feel of it, your warmth starting to swallow him in.

He gave an airy chuckle when he seen you panting, struggling to take him when you got half way.

“What’s wrong brat? Thought you had this, you look like you’re struggling to me.”

You glared at him, reaching up and turning the ghost face mask on the side of his head to cover him completely.

“Shut up you asshole,”

His patience was dancing on thin ice, the need to thrust into you and bury you to hilt, to bully the rest of his thick cock into you was making his nerves jump. As much as he tried to ignore the need to grip your hips and slam into you, to fuck you until you seen stars and begged him to stop was overwhelming.

However when you slammed yourself down onto him, his head tilted back.

“Ah fuck- you little brat-“

Your hands gripped his shoulders and you spread your knees further from him, already feeling so full. You looked up only to see him tilting his head back, his breathing picking up and his hips stuttering under you fighting the instinct to move.

You couldn’t see his face, covered by the ghost face mask and it only made it hotter. Your hands gripped the material either side of it and tilted him to look at you.

When you started to bounce on him, your walls tightened around him still trying to adjust, his eyes rolled back under the mask only opening again to see you above him looking fucked out.

“Shit, sweetheart y-you’re, fuck me, shit, y’fucking yourself dumb on this fat dick?”

You nodded dumbly at him giving him a panty ‘uh-huh’ as you sank yourself down on him again.

“Harder, if you’re gonna fuck this dick do it harder, I wanna see you strugglin’ on it.”

His hands were flexing on the booth, he started to fidget under you as you kept a pace that was no where close to getting you both to cum, he wasn’t a fool, he ever was a stupid man…

He knew you were doing it to break him first and when that thought crept into his head about giving in, he couldn’t ignore it.

You felt wet, you sounded soaking and he could feel your slick drooling down past his balls. Fucking him with this mask on like he was some toy for you was in fucking credible.

To top it all off you had the balls to smack him with that whip, the boss him around which no one done, and you were both in public.

He wanted your mouth, fuck he wanted your tongue down his throat as you whimpered into him.

He was never one who bothered about consequences, never one to care about repercussions.

“You never told me -hah- you never said what the loser has to do.”

“Maid outfit-“ you painted out, “-fucking you in this mask is so hot, fuck your dick is made f’me T.”

“Maid outfit? Loser wears one?”

You nodded dumbly and he chuckled, that’s it?

“That’s it? Fuck this-“

Toji reached up, tearing the mask off and throwing it across the booth, his large hands reaching down to grab your ass painfully.

“You ain’t walkin’ outta here pretty girl, I ain’t carrying you either-“ your eyes widened as he pulled from you , his tip just stretching you out as a wild smirk blew across his face, his eyes almost dots as he looked at you like he was about to kill you “-you little brat, I’m gonna watch you struggle then I’m gonna fuck you even harder when we get home.”

He seen your face fall, the regret perhaps dancing across your eyes and he soaked it up knowing it would fade by tomorrow. Knowing you’d be your cocky self all over again.

And he couldn’t wait.

His pace was brutal, hips slapping up into you with such force your skin was starting to sting, the leather of your outside screeching with each movement.

“Kiss, now-“ his demand was through panting, his breathing heavy as he worked his body to bully his cock inside of you, you gave him wanted he wanted as your whimpers and moans vibrated against his tongue. He swallowed each noise, his hands bruising on your ass cheeks as he held onto them for life.

Then you made a noise he’d never heard, almost a sob that mixed with a moan.

“Atta girl, keep making that noise-“ your arms wrapped around his neck, burying your face into it as your body stuttered and he knew he hit the place he was looking for, “-there it is, gonna cum for me you little slut? Can feel her squeezing me, she’s so tight”

He moaned into your ear, teeth biting at it as he coaxed you into coming with harsh words.

“M’cumming, holy shit Toji-Toji slow down, fuck m’gonna cum!”

“Do it then, I want her sucking the cum outta me, gonna have it drooling down your legs when we get outta here, whole clubs gonna see you’re a slut.”

The moan you gave was pained, frustrated as you danced on the edge of cumming, that coil so tight in your stomach, feeling like you were gonna snap but it wasn’t happening.

“Fuck!” You growled out in frustration into his neck, shifting yourself against him and he chuckled.

“She’s as stubborn as you huh?” He wrapped an arm around you, turning you so your back landed on the booth seat and his other hand grabbed the mask he flung off, pulling it back over his head as he towered over you.

“Look at you, tiny, pathetic little thing- look so dumb all cock drunk,” he rotated his cock inside you, hips moving in a circle as he looked down on you in the ghost mask.

Your hands reaching up to grip his biceps that bulged from holding his weight above you and he looked huge, made you feel like nothing under him. The low light of the room almost blocked out by his shoulders.

He started to rut into you, pressing a thumb to your clit and rolling rough circles around it. A strangled noise leaving you as your hips bucked up, tears welling in your eyes as your body started to shake under him.

“It’s too much, T-Toji it’s too much.”

“Yeah? Deal with it, I’m gonna cum soon and I don’t give a shit if you don’t,”

The panic on your face was enough to make him smirk under the mask, rolling his thumb around your clit harshly knowing it would be too much to actually make you cum.

“I want to,” your head rolled back and tears finally fell from your eyes in frustration, fucked beyond the point of cumming for him as you felt that knot slipping away left with raw, frustrating over stimulation from his rough handling.

“Then cum like a slut, you know how to do it.”

He moved his thumb, slowing his pace to harder thrusts that made your body jolt, tits bounce with each delayed, wet plap, plap, plap of his dick bullying into you.

When your eyes glazed over, your body relaxed under him he knew he had you were he wanted, Toji dropped to his elbows, leaning down to your ear as his hips worked to keep you both going.

“Baby-“ he cooed into you, voice slightly muffled under the mask, “-you feel good, pussy made f’me yeah?”

He felt you nod dumbly, your moans jolted by his hips.

“And dicks made for ya, sweetheart, she’s sucking me in so well.”

He knew he was contradicting himself making a fucking idiot out of his previous taunting that he’d cum without you, but seeing you actually frustrated, tears spilling down and you struggled made the little empathy he had in life flicker.

He kept his short punches, his lower stomach rubbing against your clit and keeping his cock punching that spot inside you until you cried out, suddenly cumming around him violently. Clinging onto him for dear life and sobbing after, pushing his mask off again so you could look at him.

“Damn girl, you’re -“ he groaned at your face, absolutely ruined from his rough treatment, your lipstick smeared, eyeliner smudged with drool and tears.

Your walls fluttering around him brought him with you, curling himself over you until he folded you up, burying himself balls deep as he emptied into you, stuttering, airy curses leaving him as he convulsed against you, hips jolting as your walls pressed around him swimming his dick in cum.

You were slack under him and his energy spent as he almost fell into you, burying his face into your neck as your panting filled the room.

Bodies aching as you pulled apart, Toji sitting back on the booth and leaning his head back, chest still heaving to bring air into his lungs.

He side glanced at you, looking at your pretty face before moving down to your swollen hole leaking cum from it. Toji reached out and patted your public bone.

“She takes me like a champ-“

You deadpanned, before sitting up onto your elbows still recovering with a breathy voice.

“She doesn’t have a choice, you monster.”

Your foot playfully pushed him and he grabbed it, bringing it up to his head so he could kiss the inside of your ankle.

“Seem to be dealin’ with it just fine,”

“So, you liked the unicorn thing?”

“No. Don’t ever do it again, I’ll leave your ass and Gojo can have you.”

“Really? Cause I was thinking of a new theme song, it’s a twist on the original-“

“Don’t sing it,”

“My lil pony, you wanna bone me~?“

©pharix/lonelystarrs 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.

If you want Toji in the maid outfit here’s the link to the next part : Maid Zen’in

#jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #kinktober jjk #kinktober toji #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk fanfiction #jjk toji #dilf toji #toji fushiguro fluff #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #Zen’in toji

[ellecdc]

Dude, I read the one where you talked about pregnant reader and you said it'll be a cute fic.... are you really gonna write it!!? Poly moonwater with pregnant reader!?? Will you? Will you? Will you!!?? Please, will you!!!!!???

well.....since you asked so nicely........👀

poly!moonwater x afab fem!reader who finds out she's expecting

CW: mentions of pregnancy, how people get pregnant (nothing discussed in detail, SFW and minors), reader is concerned the boys will leave her, reader wishes to keep the pregnancy, based off a discussion on this post.

Now that you knew, you weren’t sure how you could honestly feel surprised. In fact, now you were kind of surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner. 

For all the claims that wizardingkind makes to be ahead of the curve in comparison to muggles, they don’t exactly have the best contraceptives. 

Potions are fine if you remember to take them, the same can be said about charms, and condoms are a foreign concept to the likes of wizarding society.

You’d been feeling so incredibly exhausted lately, and it had gotten to the point that you couldn’t make it through the day without having at least one nap. It was when you’d actually fallen asleep at the dinner table that Regulus started to fret, though Remus found it terribly funny at the time. 

Then came the aches and pains that never seemed to dull no matter what you did. You’d tried potions, over the counter muggle medications, hot baths, cold showers, lying flat, sitting up – nothing stopped the aches that seemed intent on plaguing you. Remus had even given you full body massages that, whilst absolutely heavenly, did absolutely fuck all. 

“Maybe you’re coming down with something?” He’d queried, holding the back of his hand to your head. “Reg? Can you bring me the thermometer?”

You swore you heard whatever Regulus had been fussing with in the kitchen fall unceremoniously onto the counter in his haste to come over to you.

“Why? Is she poorly?” He asked severely, placing the back of his hand against your head like Remus had, only far more aggressively and to the point that it actually made a slapping sound as it made contact.

“Och, babe! If she wasn’t poorly yet she’ll surely have a concussion now!” Remus chided, pushing Regulus’ hand away and cradling your head protectively to his chest.

Needless to say, the thermometer didn’t pick up a fever either. 

So, when you woke up the next morning and spent most of the day hunched over the toilet bowl, Reg insisted you see a Healer.

Once the Healer started to ask the more...pointed questions, the pieces all started to click together in your mind.

Are you sexually active? Yes.

When was your last menstrual cycle? They weren’t exactly regular so... you supposed it had been late.

Any nausea? Yes.

Fatigue. Uh-huh.

Body or muscle pain? Fuckin’ hells.

So now you were standing outside of yours, Remus', and Regulus’ shared flat with a copy of your test results in your hand wondering what in the buggering fuck you were going to do now.

Both Regulus and Remus were pretty set on not wanting children of their own. They loved children, and they were both really good with children (in their own, very different ways); but with Regulus’ past, his family's reputation, and “the sodding inbreeding, amour; I’d be surprised if it didn’t come out with everything upside down and backwards”, he was sure that it’d be better for everyone if he stayed childless.

And Remus.

Poor, sweet Remus.

Too ashamed of his own affliction to a) pass it onto his own biological child or b) force any child to live with the knowledge that they had a ‘monster’ for a father.

And that was that.

Children just wasn’t in the cards for you three.

Yet here you were...

Suddenly, you weren’t just worried; you were terrified.

They didn’t want this, they never wanted this. They had always been clear about that. They could have been more careful to prevent this, but here you were.

Here you were.

There you stood; outside of your shared flat, unable to bring yourself to open the door.

They were going to leave you; they’d leave you, surely. Yeah?

They didn’t want this.

They wouldn’t want you. 

Fuck.

“For the love of Circe, I’m jus- Salazar’s saggy balls, Y/N!” Regulus said as he stumbled in the doorway, startled after having been in the middle of shouting something over his shoulder only to nearly collide with you. “How long have you been standing out here?”

You stared dumbly at him; you weren’t ready to go inside. You weren’t ready to have this conversation.

Too bad.

“Not long?” You stated in the form of a question. He furrowed his brows and looked you up and down before offering you his hand up the two steps to your doorway. 

“I was just opening the doors and windows; you’re lovely boyfriend tried to make us dinner.” He explained with a fond eyeroll, stepping into the flat and squinting through the smoke flooding the living space.

“Yeah, yeah. Last time I try something new in the kitchen.” Remus muttered as he threw away an entire baking dish.

“What was it supposed to be again, sweetheart?” Regulus asked with a mischievous smirk you knew he picked up from spending too much time with Remus, Sirius, and James.

“Just never you mind, you tosser. Hi dove.” He muttered to Regulus, though his tone changed dramatically once he turned to you, his eyes softening as he took in your form.

“How was your appointment?”

Your appointment? Your appointment. The appointment you just had. The appointment where you found out. The appointment where you were told you were pregnant. That appointment. The appointment you were still holding the slip for. The slip with your results. The slip with your pregnancy test results. The slip with your positive pregnancy test results.

That appointment.

“I-”

And you took off to the bathroom, slammed the door behind you and heaved into the toilet. 

There was a gentle knock on the door as you sat back against the tub with your knees to your chest, trying to catch your breath. “Dove?”

Another knock.

“Okay, we’re coming in.” Came Regulus’ more authoritarian voice through the door before it slowly opened to allow both of them entrance.

Remus had to fold himself a number of times in order to sit on the bathroom floor beside you whilst Reg flushed the toilet (while you flushed in embarrassment) and closed the lid to sit on it, facing you and Remus. 

“Did you get any answers from the healer?” Regulus asked quietly.

You smothered a humourless scoff and nodded your head in the affirmative. 

The boys let you sit there with your head laid back onto the edge of the tub and your eyes closed before Regulus couldn’t seem to handle it anymore.

“And? Are you... okay?”

You took in a deep breath and pulled that paper - now crumpled within your fist - cast a gemino duplication spell on it and handed one to each boy. 

You curled yourself inward and rested your forehead on your knees, reminding yourself to breathe even though you knew these two men now knew that you were expecting, that you were expecting their child. 

It could have been moments, or it could have been hours; but it was Remus who broke the silence.

“Pregnant?” He whispered on an exhale.

You cautiously raised your head to look over at him by your side, noticing that his eyes were shining with unshed tears.

You brought him to tears.

He never wanted this.

He wouldn’t want you.

“You’re really pregnant?” He asked again.

You nodded and swallowed around your gag reflex; unsure whether the nausea was nerves or...pregnancy related.

“You’re...” Reg started, still looking down at the paper in his hands. “You’re... gonna have a baby?” He whispered in awe.

You felt your brows furrow when you heard an emotional chuckle from beside you.

You turned back to see Remus wiping tears away from his eyes as he looked back down at his own paper in front of him.

“We’re gonna have a baby?” Remus corrected, nudging Regulus’ calf with his foot.

“Wait, you... you guys aren’t upset?” You asked urgently. Both boys snapped to attention to look at you in various degrees of worry or horror.

“Upset!?” Remus gawked as Regulus started shaking his head emphatically.

“Why? Why would you be worried of such a thing?”

You shook your own head and looked down at your hands as you began picking at your nailbeds. “Neither of you were ever interested in having kids of your own.” 

“Oh, dovey.” Remus cooed and quickly pulled you into his side. “When was the last time we talked about this, huh? When we first graduated Hogwarts? I think we could manage a kid now, yeah?”

“Or four.” Regulus added, causing you and Remus to straighten up significantly.

“Four!?” You and Remus chorused.

“Since when did you want kids?” You questioned incredulously.

“The moment I saw you hold Harry for the first time.” He answered without hesitation. 

“Ha ha.” Remus taunted. “Mine was watching her shop for Lily’s baby shower.” 

“What!?” You nearly screeched.

Regulus sighed before ultimately moving to sit on the floor on your other side; you knew this was very serious considering he was a notorious germ freak. 

“I was always a little afraid of having kids of my own, you’re right. I mean, you’ve seen the way that Sirius and I turned out, yeah?”

You and Remus scoffed at that.

“I just hated the idea of ever being anything like my parents, because that’s all I know. Or I guess, that was all I knew. But... I think you guys have taught me an awful lot.”

You watched Regulus’ stormy grey eyes as they moved between you and Remus. “You’ve both taught me to slow down, to be more patient, to see the fun in the mess and the burnt food and the change of plans. You’ve taught me that I won’t perish if I sit on the bathroom floor for a minute. And, I think most importantly, you’ve taught me how to love. And when I see how happy Harry is, I realize that’s all a kid really needs, yeah? Love?”

“You... you really want a child? This child?” You asked in a whisper.

Regulus’s face turned heartbroken for a moment. “You’re child? Absolutely, amour. There was never any doubt.”

“I always thought I’d pass on only the worst parts of me to any child.” Remus added, turning your attention to him. “But I find I’m only ever my best self when I’m around the two of you. And any child that’s even a fraction of either of you, well, I’d be one... one lucky man to call them mine.” He whimpered the end of his sentence before breaking out into a sob.

“Oh, Rem.” You murmured empathetically, pulling his larger frame into your side. He chuckled through happy tears as he moved one of his hands tentatively to your abdomen.

“A baby...” Regulus breathed, looking back at the paper in his hands. “We’re really going to have a baby?”

You and Remus exchanged a shy glance, understanding seeming to pass between the two of you before you both turned back to Regulus.

“We’re going to have a baby.” You concurred. 

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #remus lupin #regulus black #remus lupin x regulus black #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #moonwater #moonseeker #poly!moonwater #poly!moonwater x reader #poly!moonwater x you #poly!moonseeker #poly!moonseeker x reader #poly!moonseeker x you #kid fic #fem!reader #ellecdc fics

[punkshort]

i’m the anon who asked about the request! if you decide to do it, i’d absolutely wait forever😂 it’s very angsty tho, so the idea was for outbreak joel who doesn’t get the happy ending. reader who was head over heels in love coping with his death, maybe flashbacks to show the moments of reader seeing him die? idkidk the idea is very vague, sorry if it’s too sad!! if so maybe reader seeing him die was just a terrible nightmare & he’s there waking them up & helping them through a meltdown?

i’ve been craving for some emotional torture for wtv reason😭😭 thank you for even considering requests!🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Thank you for this request! It's my first one, so I hope you enjoy it. Also, I had to take the out you gave me and make this a nightmare because I am a big ol' softie and I won't apologize for it, but I will apologize for taking so long to write it 😂

I hate when you're right

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

Warnings: major character (Joel) death - but it is just a nightmare - don't read if you think that will still upset you, angst, language, violence, descriptions of blood/gore/death scene

WC: 2.5K

dividers by the one and only @saradika-graphics

You knew it was childish. You knew it wasn't essential. But you also desperately wanted to feel more comfortable, and was that really such a crime? To want to feel like yourself again? To want to wear clothes that you liked? That fit you properly? Jackson was well stocked with essentials, clothes included, but the clothes the men picked up on patrol were... utilitarian, to say the least. They grabbed the biggest and the warmest clothes so that it afforded more people the opportunity to use them, but you were beginning to grow tired of tucking men's oversized shirts into your pants, the material bunching up at your waist and twisting around as you walked, constantly trying and failing to feel comfortable in your own skin.

You thought Joel would be more open to the idea of heading outside the walls on your day off. You even teased him with the promise of picking up some new underwear, but he didn't fall for it. He fought you tooth and nail the whole evening, his voice lifting over yours angrily to explain how there's been an influx of raiders the past few weeks, that everyone agreed to lay low until they passed through, not wanting to draw attention or pick any unwanted fights. But you persisted. You always did, and you eventually wore him down when you threatened to leave without him.

Why was it such a crime to want to feel comfortable? It was just two people, you could lay low and go unseen, no problem. You've done it countless times before.

You had hoped he would have gotten over it by morning, but you were wrong. He hardly made eye contact with you during breakfast, skirting expertly around you in your kitchen, mumbling under his breath as he sipped his coffee and only shooting you angry looks when your back was turned.

The air was crisp and the woods were peaceful. You thought that would surely turn his mood around. He always appreciated being out with nature, living off the land. As much as he loved living in Jackson, he couldn't deny that part of himself that felt useful, that felt a sense of accomplishment by surviving out in the wild.

"C'mon, are you really gonna act like this all day?" you teased as you held up another shirt against your body before determining it was the right size and then tossed it in a pile with the others.

He was standing at the storefront window with his arms crossed and his jaw clenched. "Don't know what you mean."

You rolled your eyes and looked around the store, spotting a table of underwear with a grin. You lightly skipped over and tossed to the side the pairs that looked far too dusty so you could look at the ones underneath. Clearing your throat, you held up a pair of bright red stain underwear. He turned around and you saw it: it was fast, he hid it well, but you still saw it. That all too familiar excited look in his eye.

"Don't you like them?" you asked with a playful pout. He furrowed his brow at you like he was annoyed, and maybe he was, but you still saw the heat beginning to crawl up his neck.

"They ain't practical."

You gave him a defeated sigh and strolled over to your pile of clothes, your fingertips daintily holding the undergarment out to him. "No? Then what are they?"

His eyes shifted from yours to the red material in your hand and you saw his throat work as he swallowed.

"Useless," he croaked, and you narrowed your eyes at him. You got a little closer, letting the soft fabric glide against the back of his hand when you dropped your arm to your side.

"Oh, yeah?" you said breathily, and you watched his eyelids flutter at your tone. "Then I guess it wouldn't matter if I brought them home and let you rip them off me."

He stepped forward, a growl emitting from his chest, low and deep, when at the exact same time, you both heard shouting outside the store. Swiveling both your heads towards the glass storefront, your blood ran cold when you saw six heavily armed men advancing towards you.

"Shit," he muttered, his arm pulling your shoulder down just in time to avoid the cascade of bullets that rained down upon you. You laid face down on the rough carpet, covering the back of your head with your eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the shooting to stop. Joel tugged on your arm and you opened your eyes in a panic.

"Follow me!" he shouted, army crawling towards the registers, and you dutifully followed behind, your heart racing wildly in your chest.

Once you made it, the counter offering some, but not much, safety, the both of you pulled out your guns and double checked your ammo.

"Alright, when they stop to reload-"

"I know," you said, cutting him off. You've both been in this situation before. You knew what to do.

Holding your rifle upright and against your chest, you breathed deep, trying to steady your hands until the bullets slowed and you heard more shouting. Joel nodded to you and you both sprung up from the floor, pulling your rifles against your bodies in sync and lining up your targets.

Patience is a virtue. The amount of ammunition they wasted on the two of you was laughable when you each caught one of them between the eyes, leaving four against two.

You thought you would be able to get another shot off but Joel tugged your arm and you slinked back to the floor as a shower of bullets rained over you once again.

"You good?" he asked, and you nodded, gasping for air. Your hands began to stabilize when the shock wore off. You were in the zone.

Pressing both your backs against the small counter, you remained calm and waited out your attackers. Glass shards tinkled and scattered behind you. Bullets pinged against the metal shelving, ricocheting into the drywall.

"Assault rifles for two people? Really?" you muttered, more so to yourself, but Joel heard you.

"Told you this was a bad fuckin' idea," he said angrily.

When there was another brief pause, he looked to you again and nodded. At the same time, you rose up and took aim, firing on your attackers once again. Joel made his shot, you didn't. Three down, three to go.

"Fuck," you grumbled, reloading your rifle even though you still had rounds left.

"Focus," he scolded.

The men sounded like they were getting closer. Their voices were louder. Clearer. The shots were deafening. You prayed they weren't inside the store, because you hadn't planned an exit strategy. Without warning, Joel stood up and fired a shot. You heard a man scream and then a loud thud. It sounded like the man was just on the other side of the counter.

"That's not the plan," you seethed at him when he dropped back down next to you.

"Didn't have a choice, he was 'bout to jump us," he sneered.

Two against two.

When the shots slowed down, you held your breath, looking at Joel from the corner of your eye. He held his palm up to you silently, signaling for you to stay where you were. You heard boots crunching slowly against glass and your heart leapt into your throat. They were in the store.

You shot Joel a panicked look but he just shook his head, focusing on their footsteps, calculating how far away they were.

"Come out now and no one gets hurt," a man's deep voice called out. He was close.

Joel clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils. You knew that look. It was the look of a man who was about to do something stupid. But before you could stop him, before you could reach out to him and hold him back, he stood up and took aim.

One shot. That was all you heard when Joel slumped to the floor next to you, clutching his stomach as dark red blood poured from the wound. Your eyes went wide and you saw red. Without thinking, you stood up and shot, taking one of the two men down with a yelp. The remaining raider ducked behind a display, and you dropped your rifle in favor of your handgun. Crouching low to the ground, you inched forward, careful of any broken glass that would give your position away. When you were on the other side of the display, you heard the man's labored breaths. He was scared. He was out of his element. And you had him right where you wanted him.

Silently tucking the gun in the back of your pants, you slid your hunting knife out from your ankle holster. You took a deep breath and lunged forward, driving the knife deep into the man's chest.

He dropped his gun and clutched weakly at your hands, but it was no use. His blood poured from the wound when you yanked your knife out with a grunt, and you watched as his hands slowly slid back down to his sides, his eyes still wide open and staring up at the ceiling.

You smirked, feeling victorious for only a moment before you remembered Joel. Dropping your knife, you rushed back to his side, only to find his face pale and his hands stained dark red.

"Joel!" you cried out, pressing your palms against the wound, hoping to slow the bleeding. His eyes drifted towards you, softening when he saw you were alive and unharmed. That you were going to make it.

Panic consumed you. Your heart was slamming against your ribs as you fumbled with your backpack, trying to find your first aid kit through the tears.

"I love you," he whispered, and you shook your head.

"Don't start with that, you're gonna be fine."

"Baby," he said weakly, and you choked back a sob.

"Hold on," you told him, still searching in your pack.

"Look at me," he said, and your hands stilled for a moment before you dragged your eyes back to him, your lower lip trembling as you took in his deteriorating state.

"I need to-" you began, but stopped to take in a shaky breath. "I need to patch you up and get you to the horses."

"No, you don't," he said softly, and more tears spilled from your eyes.

"Yes, I do. I gotta-"

"I ain't gonna make it, sweetheart," he slurred, and you could see by the amount of blood he was losing that he was right. But still, you pressed your palms against the gunshot wound, your fingers slipping through his thick and sticky blood.

"Don't say that. I can't do this without you," you whimpered, and closed your eyes for a brief moment. You felt his fingertips weakly grip your chin and you forced your eyes back open.

"Yes, you can," he said as firmly as he could. He was so pale and weak and it was making your stomach turn.

You shook your head, about to argue with him, but he stopped you.

"You keep goin', you hear me?" he said, and still, you shook your head from side to side, small sobs slipping past your lips. "Don't let this world win. You... go on and keep fightin'. Please. Be happy, baby. For me."

"No!" you cried out, spittle dripping from your lips now, mixing with your tears. "I won't! I-I can't!"

"You can," he repeated, and gave you a weak smile. "I'm ready, baby. It'll be okay."

You squeezed your eyes shut tight, the tears leaking out, hot and angry on your cheeks as you sobbed over him, clutching his hand in yours so tightly, like if you squeezed hard enough, you could give him your lifeforce. Give him your breath. But moments later, his grip weakened and when you opened your eyes, his head slumped to the side and his lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

"Joel!" you screamed, sitting up in bed, drenched in sweat with tears still streaming down your face. You looked to your side, where he normally slept, but he wasn't there. Panic squeezed your throat, your chest fucking hurt, but you flung the blankets off you and ran towards the door. Still not hearing any sounds, you raced down the stairs, almost tripping in the process but you had a grip on the railing to keep you steady.

When your eyes finally landed on his familiar form stretched out on the couch, his back to you, you allowed yourself to breathe a sigh of relief.

Reality came back to you now. You had your fight about leaving Jackson, but he won and you slept apart. You never left. He never got shot. It was all just a horrible dream.

You stumbled over to the couch, your tears unstoppable, the nightmare too vivid, too real. Your trembling hands clutched his shoulder as you fell to your knees on the floor, shaking him awake.

"What?" he grumbled, clearly still pissed off about your fight.

"I'm sorry!" you sobbed loudly, and when he realized something was wrong, he whipped around to face you.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep.

"I-I had-" you began, then you hiccupped, cutting yourself off. His face was etched with concern as he forced himself up and cupped your face.

"C'mon, talk to me," he urged, the fear in his eyes reflecting back to you as you looked at him, still not sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I had a nightmare," you finally managed to get out. "About our fight. That we... we went out like I wanted and-and-" you collapsed into another fit of sobs, your shoulders shaking violently.

"Hey, it's alright," he soothed, pulling you up and into his lap and rubbing your back. You pressed your tear stained face into his neck, inhaling deeply, grounding yourself. He was alive. He was here. Everything was fine.

"I'm sorry," you whimpered, your throat still tight but your tears were slowing down. "I'm sorry we fought. I don't wanna go out anymore. I don't need new clothes, it was stupid, I'm sorry."

"Shh, it's okay," he said, pulling you tightly against his chest, "I'm sorry we fought, too. I just wanna keep us safe."

"I know, you're right," you said, pulling back a bit and wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "Will you come back to bed?"

"Yeah," he replied with half a smirk. "'Course I'll come back to bed, baby. Don't cry, it's alright."

You let him lead you up the stairs and to your bedroom, your side of the bed still damp with sweat but it didn't bother you. Joel was safe and sound and in your arms and you didn't care if you had to wear a potato sack for the rest of your life, as long as you had Joel, nothing else mattered.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel the last of us #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller angst #requests

[katnisspeetaprim]

Father Figure

Lucifer Morningstar/Platonic!TeenReader

Summary: You'd had a hard time in the sort while you'd been alive, so when your new boss shows you kindness like you've never seen, you can't help but be suspicious...

Warnings: Platonic relationship, teenage fem reader, implied drug use, implied sex work, implied underage sex, dead beat parents, assault, swearing, panic attack, crying, angst, fluff A.N; not sure if I will write a part 2 yet, see how this does!

Word Count: 3102 Hazbin M.list

Hell was a scary place for someone like you. Being a teenager in Hell was less than ideal.

Your parents were useless, always too coked out of their minds to care for you, so you left.

Due to your unfortunate circumstances, you had to resort to some... less than kosher means to survive. It was awful, but it’s all you could do.

One night, one of your clients wouldn’t take no for an answer so when you tried to fight back, things went bad for you.

So here you were.

Luckily, under princess Morningstar’s new work programme, all new sinners would be provided with a job to get them started, if they accepted the help that is. And that’s how you came to be the King of hell’s live in maid.

You’d finally found your way to the mansion, after getting lost multiple times. You felt somewhat intimidated as you stood before the large doors. It just now hit you that you’d be working for the devil himself. The thought made your blood run cold. Why would they give such a high profile job to someone like you? Maybe because you wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble? Either way you couldn’t back out now.

Swallowing back your nerves, you raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a short man, who seemed a little too keen to interact with you.

‘Why hello there! Something I can help you with?’... Was he waiting by the door?

‘I uh- I was told to come here to work?’ You handed him your work certificate, and he quickly scanned it over before breaking out into a smile.

‘Wow! I didn’t expect to get someone so soon!’ It was only after Lucifer read the paper, did he properly look at you. His smile faltered slightly.

‘Uh sorry to be blunt, but you look a little... young?’

‘Well I’m 16.’ You laughed nervously. ‘Is that not ok? I promise I’ll be a good worker!’ Lucifer frowned deeply at your sudden panicked rambling.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to die young, but to end up in Hell?

He knew Earth could be a terrible place, but what could you have done at such a young age to end up here.

‘No no! Just me thinking out loud haha.’ Lucifer quickly backtracked. ‘Please come in.’ He moved to allow you to pass by, now smiling again. You entered, realising you were only slightly shorted than him as you passed by.

Maybe working for the Devil wouldn’t be as scary as you thought.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve needed a maid. I hate cleaning!’ He sighed out dramatically.

Over the coming months, you’d settled well into your job. You suppose you had it easy when it came to jobs in Hell. Cleaning was pretty easy.

Lucifer mostly left you to your own devices, thinking you wouldn’t want to hang out with an old man like him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make an effort with you.

The first time he approached you in the middle of the day, was to gift you a mobile phone.

‘Hey!’ He slid up to you out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin. ‘Realised you don’t have a phone! Can’t check in if you don’t have one of those!’ You weren’t used to receiving gifts with no strings attached, But Lucifer didn’t seem to have ulterior motives, so you tentatively accepted.

‘Oh! I’ll even give you my daughters number! You two will get on like a house on fire!’

Another encounter was on an evening. Lucifer was finishing up his supper, when he aught sight of you scurrying round the foyer. He called out for you to come over.

‘Have you eaten yet? It’s getting pretty late...’ You couldn’t help but feel touched that he was seemingly looking out for you.

‘I still have a lot to do... I’m a little behind today...’ You trailed off, worried about being scolded for being tardy.

‘Nonsense! Please join me, there’s way too much for just me anyway.’ Lucifer insisted, jumping up and pulling a chair out for you.

‘Are you sure that’s ok?’ You asked, still a little reserved of his kindness.

‘Of course! Always happy for the company.’

Lucifer could read you like a book. He knew you were still nervous and skeptical of him, but he couldn’t blame you. He still didn’t know the circumstances for you to end up in Hell, plus you were so young, it would take a lot to trust.

Even though you worked for him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

One of the more recent incidents, was when you got hurt.

The house chef was running out of ingredients, so he asked you to run out and grab them. You happily agreed since you didn’t really have any reason to leave the house otherwise.

Ok. Maybe you’d gone a little over bored, you thought as you juggled the heavy bags in your arms.

‘Hey baby! Need some help with those?’ You looked over and saw a group of 3 men leering at you. You smiled nervously and said ‘ No thank you.’ Before turning round, hoping to get away without any trouble.

‘Hey do you know who your talking to? Don’t be rude!’ One of the men grabbed your arm, causing you to drop your bags.

‘Don’t touch me!’ You screamed out, trying to pry your arm from his grip.

‘We were just offering to walk you home lady, but if you want to get down here, that’s fine by us.’ The second man sneered at you with a smirk as he grabbed your face hard.

Your eyes widened at his words. You were now struggling even more, to no avail. The final man cam up behind you and grabbed your other arm in an attempt to keep you still.

‘Stop struggling will ya!’ The man in front of you spat out, shaking you by the arm. He shook you so violently, that the long sleeve of your dress began to rip. You took advantage of this. Pulling your arm back so hard, your sleeve came off in his hand.

The attacker behind you hadn’t been expected you to fall backwards, so he lost his grip on your arm, giving you just enough time to book it in the direction of Lucifer’s home.

You could hear them running and shouting after you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t far now. You just had to make it back to the house and you’d be safe.

Bursting through the main doors, you immediately fell to your knees and cradled your head in your hands as you hyperventilated.

‘Y/N!? What the Hell happened?’ Lucifer had heard the slam of the door so he came out to investigate. He hadn’t expected to find you having a panic attack in his entrance hall.

He was kneeling by your side in an instant, placing a comforting hand on your back. As he looked closer at you, he saw that your sleeve was ripped, with a bruise forming round your wrist. When you looked up at him with wide, teary eyes he also clocked some bruises on your jaw.

Lucifer’s eyes immediately darkened.

‘’m sorry I-I lost the groceries...’ You stuttered out with a shaky voice.  Lucifer’s face immediately contorted.

‘Y/N I don’t give a damn about the groceries! I want to know who did this to you.’ Lucifer was aware of how angry he sounded, but he was honestly offended that you thought he cared more about some groceries than you.

You cowered slightly at his raised voice and Lucifer felt bad. He took a deep breath to calm down before speaking again, much more softly this time.

‘Please Y/N, I need to know who did this.’

You looked up to him and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. You tried your best to get your sobs under control so you could speak.

‘There was a-a group of three rough looking guys not far from here...’ Lucifer groaned internally. He knew exactly who you were talking about.

They were a group that had been causing trouble round the are for a while now, but he never had a good enough reason to get rid of them... Until now.

Lucifer stood and extended a hand to you with a smile. You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you to your feet.

‘Go get cleaned up ok? I gotta go out for a while.’ He ushered you towards your room.

‘Ok...’ You trailed off sadly.

‘Great!’ Lucifer grinned widely at you as he opened a portal. He stepped through before leaning his head back out to address you.

‘And I don’t want to see you doing house work when I get back, kay?’ he tipped his hat before dashing back through. Then the portal closed.

‘Evening gentlemen.’ The three men from earlier swiftly jumped up from their card game, to see Lucifer leaning up against the wall, blocking the exit to the alley. They all immediately shrunk back when they saw it was him.

‘oh your majesty... What brings you to our hideout?’ Lucifer started to slowly walk into the alley, never tearing his eyes away from the men, making them even more on edge.

‘Uh-sir?’

‘So you think it’s fun to assault kid’s huh?’ Lucifer spoke in an eerily calm voice. The men looked at each other, now sweating profusely.  They all immediately tried to deny the accusations, but Lucifer wasn’t having it.

‘Keep your filthy mouths shut!’ His demonic form began manifesting as his anger grew. ‘You dare lay your hands on someone I care about!?’

The men were no longer tough bullies, but now reduced to a quivering mass with their backs to the wall as Lucifer stalked forwards.

A smirk appeared on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the men.

‘What do you say I give a demonstration of how Hell got it’s reputation?’

Screams echoed from the alley. People knew better than to intervene.

Lucifer returned home not much later, making a bee line for your room straight away.

He was about to knock on your door, when he heard faint crying coming from the other side.

He looked down remorsefully. Maybe he shouldn’t have left you alone. He composed himself and knocked. The sobs went quiet and he heard a meek, ‘come in.’

As he entered, he noticed you’d changed from your maid outfit and now wore your pyjamas and dressing gown.

‘Hey Y/N, you feeling any better?’ He came to sit next to you with a comforting smile.

‘I guess so...’ You replied, though the defeated look was still evident on your face.

‘Well golly! I have something to turn that frown upside down!’ You were startled by his sudden energetic proclamation. ‘Ta-da!’ He pulled a small duck from his coat pocket and proudly presented it to you.

You looked over the duck, which had obviously been made to resemble you by giving it some of your features.

As you looked at the little yellow duck, something inside of you snapped. Without warning, you batted the duck from his hand and jumped up in a fury, scowl painted across your face.

‘Why are you acting like you care about me!?’ Lucifer jumped up as if you’d burnt him, his hands out in front of him as a peaceful gesture. He was stunned at your sudden outburst.

‘Y/N, I don’t thi-‘

‘Don’t try and lie to me! Nobody’s ever cared about me!’ You cut him off. You were getting more irate as you broke down into hysterics again.

Lucifer didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to speak.

When he didn’t answer, it only made you more angry.

‘What do you want from me!?’ You screamed at him, tears flowing down your face. ‘Is it sex? Is that what you want from me, just like everyone else!?’

Lucifer audible gasped at your outburst and took a step back to show he meant no harm.

‘Whoa kid! I don’t want anything from you! Especially not...’ Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to say it. Everything began to fall into place for him now. So that’s what you had to do back on Earth.

He was angry that you accused him of being that disgusting, but not at you. He could never hate you. He was angry that there were people on Earth that thought it was ok to take advantage of a child like that.

You froze in place. The way he was keeping his distance, the way he was making himself look small so as to not intimidate you... Then there was his eyes. They were sad.

They bore into you, as if he were pleading with you to believe him. He wasn’t lying.

Your eyes stung with tears and your face heated up as you looked away, embarrassed by your outburst.

Lucifer wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to spook you, so you needed to make the first move.

You mumbled something under your breath he couldn’t quite hear.

‘I uh, didn’t catch that...’ You squinted your eyes and let out a shaky breath, as if hyping yourself up to repeat what you had said.

You looked him dead in the eye, face hard as you repeated yourself.

‘I said I wish I were your daughter! My life would have been so much better.’

Lucifer was gobsmacked. He really hadn’t been expecting that. When he really thought about it he realised he shouldn’t be that surprised at all. He knew you had to have a rough life, and with how welcoming and caring he’d been to you, he should have know something like this would manifest.

The more Lucifer thought it over, the bigger his hear swelled. You thought so highly of him, that you wanted him to be your dad, or fatherly figure at least.

It seemed that Lucifer took a few moments too many to digest this information, as you turned away from him abruptly. He could see you shaking.

‘I’m sorry....’ You whispered.

Lucifer was snapped back to reality by your voice. You were clearly still upset, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading  across his face.

He made his way over to you and gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder, so as to not startle you, but you still flinched at the contact.

‘Y/N... You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’ Lucifer spoke so softly that it took you off guard. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.

‘It wasn’t till recently that I repaired my relationship with Charlie.’ You were rooted to the spot as you listened intently to what he was saying. ‘ I wasn’t there for a long time, and I truly regret how much time I missed with her.’ Your face was cast down as you hung onto every word.

You felt so stupid bringing this up. He already had a daughter that he loved, so you would just get in the way. Maybe this was his way of letting you down gently.

Lucifer moved to stand next to you, with his arm now across your shoulders. As you looked up to him, you were stunned to see him smiling. You almost passed out at his next words.

‘But maybe I can be there for you.’ More tears started to stream down your face, but this time they were tears of joy. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy.

Flinging your arms round his torso, you buried your head into his chest as you clung to him for dear life.

Lucifer happily returned your embrace and lay his head a top yours.

‘I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.’ He soothed as he stroked the top of your head. You pulled back and looked up to him with a slight laugh.

‘You mean I should have died sooner?’ Lucifer cringed and pulled away, playfully throwing his hands up in the air.

‘Well of course it’s gonna sound morbid if you say it like that!’ You both laughed together and you wiped the tears from under your eyes.

Something caught Lucifer’s eye from across the room. It was the small duck he’d previously offered you.

You watched without a word as he retrieved the gift. He stood before you and offered it once again with a wide grin. This time you gratefully accepted.

Cupping your hands round the small toy, you held it up next to your face.

‘Great likeness.’ You joked and Lucifer snorted out in laughter.

‘I’m glad you like it! You know when you knocked it away, I thought you were highly offended with how I portrayed you, so good to know that’s not the case!’ He teased and gae you a thumbs up.

‘Thank you.’

‘Well.’ Lucifer spun round, making his way to the door before pausing to speak over his shoulder. ‘Thanks to todays surprising turn of events, I need to hire a new maid.’ He paused for a moment before turning back round to fully face you. ‘Can’t have my honorary daughter run ragged , now can I?’

Later that night after both of you had taken some much needed time to calm down, Lucifer had made you sit at the dining table, whilst he served you for a change. Once you were both settled, he took the opportunity to press you a little.

‘So did you ever reach out to Charlie like I said a while ago?’ You chuckled nervously and rubbed at the back of your neck.

  ‘I didn’t really think it would be appropriate.’

‘Ah come one now, I was the one who bought it up! Plus I think it would be good for you.’

‘How so?’ You titled your had curiously and Lucifer sank back into his chair with a breathy laugh.

‘Charlie showers literally everyone she meets with love, and she’ll introduce you to loads of new friends.’

‘But-‘ You stopped yourself, really thinking weather or not you should even ask. ‘Will she even want to meet me?’ Lucifer’s face softened into a warm smile. He knew exactly what you were thinking. You were scared that Charlie would want nothing to do with you, considering the way you saw him now.

He sat up and reached over, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

‘I grantee it.’

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #imagine #one shot #reaction #drabble #headcannon #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #charlie #alastor #husk #angel #adam #teen!reader #platonic

[spncvr]

waiting room | s. reid

summary: spencer can't seem to escape the girl in the waiting room

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of reid's addiction & tobias hankel, mentions of kidnapping and mass shootings (in, like, a joking way??) my terrible, terrible humour, ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE LMAO, this is deffo terrible, pls tell me if i missed anything!!

a/n: ok idk if i wanna continue this and make it a series so lmk lol (also im on writers block so i literally can't come up with SHIT)

SPENCER REID WAS a pessimist.

At least, that’s what he’d call himself. His colleague, Derek Morgan would most likely (and by most likely, he means, definitely already has) call him an overanalysing introvert. But in Spencer’s defense, there has never really been a good reason to go out and “live your life”. Consider this:

Go to the new coffee shop? Mass shooting.

Go to the mall? A child gets abducted.

Leave the apartment for a short while? A stalker finds out where he lives, kidnaps him in his sleep, and, in a nightmarish turn, auctions off his organs to the bidder in the black market.

Besides, his life isn’t some John Green book. There were no life-affirming adventures or poetic moments of self-discovery awaiting him. Carpe diem? A fanciful notion for others, but for him, not so much. Sorry, Mr. Keating.

Yet life—or more accurately, bureau protocol— had its own plans. Ever since the Tobias Hankel incident, a visit to the psychologist wasn’t just a request but rather (unfortunately for him) an order. Which meant, he’d have to risk his entire life to get up and walk for ten whole minutes just to sit and wait, in this glaringly bright waiting room, when he could have stayed at home and read the new books he’d gotten from his team as a get-well gift.

Speaking of which, why the gifts? He was fine. Physically, at least. But really, when have you ever seen get-well-soon cards in an asylum? Well, alright, maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. A visit to the psychologist doesn’t mean he’ll be institutionalised—but then again, Spencer Reid was never one to wear rose-tinted glasses. 

This is his third time in the waiting room, and she’s always there. He isn’t sure as to why she is, because, well, unlike himself, she was very clearly an optimist—and at least, from the looks of it, she hasn’t been kidnapped and drugged in the past month. But she's sitting there again, in the exact same chair for the past three weeks, along with a beacon of smiles where joy usually fears to trend. Maybe, he isn't as good of a profiler as he’d like to think he is.

“Dr. Reid?” the call of his name rips him out of his thoughts. He looks up to see the same kind woman he’s seen the past three weeks—not the one in the waiting room, no, he means his therapist.

Dr. Brown was easy to profile: She wore heels to make herself look taller, and she hated wearing glasses, apparent by how she would continuously place them atop her head instead of her nose. Her teeth were abnormally perfect, which meant, she’d had to wear braces when she was younger—which (from his humbling experience) means she wasn’t exactly the most popular at school. Perhaps, psychology felt appealing to her because she could help people like her. 

“How are you?” she asks, her pen clicking.

Usually, he’d offer her a meek shrug. The kind that could win awards for its commitment to non-commitment. Besides, he’s not one to talk about how he feels—there isn’t much to say, anyway. And let’s face it,  “How are you?” in the grand tapestry of human interaction is almost as genuine as a three-dollar bill. And, get this, the average person asks “How are you?” 6,739 times a year but only listens to the answer about half the time—well, okay, maybe those numbers might have been fabricated, but isn’t the sincerity behind the question also made up? But instead of telling her all this, he remembers what Hotch had told him, one, two, three weeks ago: that he ought to cooperate with Dr. Brown or the board won’t be happy. So, he kisses his teeth before he says:

“Fine. I’m fine.”

And the session went on.

PLS TELL ME IF I SHLD CONTIUE OR NOT LOLOLOL spam my inbox with ideas I BEG.

#c can’t write #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x fem!reader #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #flangst #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid blurb

[nolovelingers]

hi omg i loved ur hcs for ethan landry as ur bf <333 do you think you could write something like that, but for tate langdon, please?

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsessive tendencies,, nsfw !! similar to ethans i try to keep these as realistic as my silly little mind is able to think !! very toxic relationship 🌀 talk of self harm & smoking

——————————————————————————

 SFW !!

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . is like meeting someone who’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. there are no duplicates, copies or a person even remotely similar to the dark eyed boy.

there’s always been something about his odd personality that has a strange charm to it. he’s always held himself up to his own standards and even back before the entire westfield high situation he’s been very picky about his living style and the people he surrounds himself with.

so therefore when he met you, the stilled silence to his violent tornado, it was as if everything else in the world dimmed and the spotlight shone to you.

he would never leave you alone. not when you move rooms, not if you try to have people over, not when you stormed into the backyard and sat under the flickering moon as you desperately grasped for alone time. not even when you go to the bathroom.

the second he came into your life and you allowed him to, privacy no longer existed. the only time he would ever leave was if he had his own emergency to partake to or if your guardian(s) were around.

at first it was cute, you couldn’t really deny the fact that having a boyfriend so attached to the hip and dependent made your heart flutter in some sort of way. but you quickly learned that even as dreamy as it sounds it’s not all that great.

if you run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside the langdon boy is fast to follow suite, confused on where or what you were running from until he watched you shut the restroom door and he slid his back against it; knees brought up to his chest as he patiently waited for you to come back out. and trust me, he will wait. doesn’t matter if it’s hours or even half of the day. he won’t move an inch.

you hardly invite friends over but the few times you do you’re fast to regret it. you tell him your friends coming over, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave, and he’ll only blankly stare at you; face devoid of any emotion as he mutters a gentle ‘oh’ before returning to looking through your collections of whatever it is you have an abundance of. maybe books, cd’s, vinyls, comics, posters, crystals/rocks, stuffed animals, funky socks or a hoard of animal bones; there’s nothing in your room tate hasnt gotten his hands on.

even after you alert him of the approaching company unless you plan on shoving him out or repeatedly asking him to leave he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. he’s terrible at reading social cues and you have to spell out the simplest things for him.

he’s quick to judge your friends, not one of them is good enough for you in his mind and he’ll be sure to voice that. sometimes even straight to their face; with a blank expression and no emotion behind his eyes. it doesn’t matter how close or how long you’ve known someone, could even be your whole life, they’re not good for you like he is.

he often says the most terrible and disgusting things about them to your face, judging you heavily for the people you hang around and making you feel insecure.

he is definitely the type to drive wedges in between all of your relationships. just with your friends at first but as the relationship furthers he begins to do the same to your family too.

obviously he can’t leave the house but if there was ever a time you ranted about someone you dislike, hurt your feelings or overall anything spoken poorly about them he would remember it till halloween and carefully map out their murder. i mean, you wanted them to die right? why else would you tell him about it?

tate is extremely oblivious to your emotions. he loves you so much and it’s clear to him you must be meant for each other. so no matter how you feel back, reciprocated or not tate would assume you liked him too. he refuses to be in the friend zone and throws a hissy fit if you ever even try.

as we all known he’s one of the prettiest criers out there and this is very useful when it comes to manipulating. he knows you have a weak spot for seeing his tears and now anytime you try to lecture him, kick him out or he feels as though you’re not understanding his (rather malicious) side of the story the tears are quick to fall. but the tricky thing here is that they are always real tears of sadness and regret; it’s just as though he’s reprogrammed himself to cry at any minor inconvenience.

his favorite cuddle position is spooning and he often likes to be the little spoon. no one in his life has ever cared for him enough (or at least in his eyes they haven’t), and when you have your arms securely around him, pulling him into you; it’s like heaven on earth. he feels so safe, warm and comforted. there are of course days where the rolls switch but there’s really no denying he prefers to be the one being spooned.

id definitely say he’s a sort of pathological liar and even when he doesn’t mean for it to happen lies fall from his mouth as easy as tears stream from his eyes. it could be about the stupidest shit or it could be actually serious as he tries to work his way out of a situation he’s actually at fault for.

this makes it really hard to trust him, because it’s eerily scary how easy it is for him to lie straight to your face with even blinking, or come up with excuses on the spot. i know people like to claim they’re usually good at picking up when people are lying to them but with tate it’s a huge challenge. he’s unnaturally good at it and doesn’t hesitate.

it’s not easy to pick up on his fibs in the moment but there are a few times you’re able to realize later on; as his stories don’t add up or he forgot his lie in the first place and comes up with a completely different one when asked the same question from before.

and even then once he gets caught; deny deny deny. you’re the one in the wrong for accusing him of something like that when he just has a poor memory and suddenly you’re the bad guy for pointing fingers even though you’re the one with evidence and he just throws out empty accusations.

if you smoke i think he’d love to break into your stash a lot, he didn’t use weed before his death but once you introduce him i see him as a sort of mini-stoner. he’ll use your stuff without even asking. he kind of contradicts himself in that way because for the most part when he was still living he thought people who smoked or drank were stupid, ruining their body. he looked down on them. when you’re dead though you cant really destroy your body and though he still doesn’t like drinking he’ll indulge in smoking.

if you do any sort of after school activity or club he’ll encourage you to quit, telling you how it’s all stupid and a waste of time that you could be spending together. if you refuse he’ll try to sabotage it for you the best he can while being confined to the house. maybe sending a nasty email to your teacher/coach or by ruining a uniform or equipment you use.

there’s definitely times when he’s asked you to drop out of highschool to which you immediately declined and there’s not really much else he could do about this nuisance.

langdon will put you onto his likes and interests, music or movies he has a taste for. he’ll try the stuff you like as well but he’s quick to judge and doesn’t do second thoughts or tries. if he doesn’t like it he won’t even pretend to and will harsh out negative reviews before you turn it off. and then he’ll act confused on why you suddenly stopped it but he’s very glad you did. he couldn’t stand it.

and because of this when you’re hanging out it’s all about what tate wants to do. the music he wants to play. the things he wants to talk about and the films he wants to watch.

jealousy is a major problem for him and the mention of really anyone, but especially if it’s a guy, will have his blood pumping and his head spinning.

to him, he only has you. it should be the same way around, he absolutely hates that you have and know other people that aren’t just him.

tw? — if you ever try to leave him he goes all out and puts on the most dramatic show you’ve literally ever seen. throwing himself against walls, screaming and crying his eyes out, burying his head in his knees and clutching at his hair while begging and pleading for you to stay. he doesn’t get angry at all but turns more pathetic and desperate as he clings onto you. lots of “ill do better”, “you can’t leave me”, “tell me what I did wrong” and “you’re all I have”’s leaving his lips. if this doesn’t work he’ll harm himself in front of you, smashing his head against the wall or even using a sharp tool to cut into his arm while only asking one thing. “is this what you want?”

tw? — it’s a very draining relationship and can impact your mental space a lot. if you self harm he will catch you eventually, whether it’s while in the act or the scars/scabs from after. he’ll grab your arm (not assuming that’s where you sh, just so he has a grip on you), asking you how you could be so selfish (which is his way of caring) and then asking you to cut him instead anytime you wanted to hurt yourself. this is obviously off putting and drives a wedge between you for a while, which he will trap you back by guilting you and apologizing. (even though he was completely serious when asking and still is.)

the blonde haired boy lives for your validation. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and pestering you with loads of questions. whether if it’s if you like his outfit to if you still had feelings for him or not.

he’s a huge listener than he is a talker and could sit for hours, happily criss crossed and a toothless and content smile on his face while you go on about every little detail of your day.

he’s definitely asked you to do his eyeliner before but would rather die (again) than have anything else applied to his skin. it would cripple his masculinity.

overall he’s very touchy, craving for any contact he can get with you. resting his head on your shoulder, holding hands, his hand on your thigh or pinkies intwined. he always has to be touching you in some way.

recommending books and songs are one of his all time favorite things to do and he does expect you to read or listen to all of his suggestions. he’ll ask you about it a few days later after initially suggesting it and will get upset if you still haven’t looked into it.

tate hardly gets angry, he’s very sensitive as we all know and most of the time it ends in his hysterical sobs; but when the fire inside him lights it’s terrifying.

if you weren’t the one to make him angry you’d usually be okay, he’d rant about it to you while you played with his hair; describing all of the horrendous ways he wanted to see the person or thing he’s mad at crash and burn. if he’s angry at you it’s like he moves on his own, putting you in a chokehold and slamming you against the wall, yelling and pointing fingers at you. pushing items off your desks/dressers/shelf’s and you make him go away; scared of him hurting you. he wouldn’t, not intentionally, but it was a very scary sight to see.

of course within hours he’d return, tears streaming down his face and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, arms latched around your legs as he sobbed into them and refused to let go until you forgave him.

as much as he loves you and wants you to be together forever, he would never purposefully go to the extent of killing you in the house so you could stay with him forever at the age you are. it sucks, he knows it sucks, but he does have a boundary set for that. he doesn’t want you stuck there for the rest of your life. he’s just hoping you’ll stay in that house with him willingly anyway. he’d let you go after crying his heart out for days, but he’d never let you forget him or move on. and being honest; he would probably start to regret the decision.

his love for you goes beyond words, it consumes him completely. he knows now his purpose. the day he died in that house and the years that passed waiting up to the day he met you.

he was made for loving you, in his own sick way. you are his entire heart.

NSFW !!

tate is a switch in the bedroom, but he’s so easy to dominate which makes him lead towards being more submissive. of course he’ll be in his dominant moods, there’s no doubt, but it’s laughable how easy it is to take control back over him.

he loves to overstimulate you, fucking you or relentlessly giving you head for hours, not giving you rest inbetween as you beg for him to stop through shattered moans.

(if you’re a female) — we all know about his mommy issues and he definitely incorporates that into the bedroom in some ways.

(if you’re a female) — he’s a tits man rather than ass and anytime you’re going at it your shirt has to be off, he doesn’t care what size breasts you have all he wants is to attach his mouth around your nipples and tease them with his tongue, sucking lightly before leaving hickeys all over them.

(if you’re a female) — he has the best fuck me eyes the worlds ever seen and when he’s bottoming he can’t stop himself from calling you ‘mama’.

he’s very kinky, and he has put on the infamous leather suit before to fuck you. it makes him feel more powerful, like he’s in control.

when he’s topping he’ll have one hand pinning one of your arms above your hand while using his other to interlace your fingers, crying into your neck with all the pleasure he’s feeling.

he’s not the greatest on cleaning up afterwords but he always snuggles you, cuddling up to you in a ball and resting his head soundly on your chest as his breathing slows and he drifts off.

but the most important thing to know — tate is godly at sex. he doesn’t have the most experience in the world but he definitely wasn’t a virgin by the time you met and he knows what he’s doing.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ a/n : thank you sm for requesting , made my day !! i hope that this is to your liking, i appreciate the compliment ab my ethan headcanon i tried my best <33. my inbox is open to all !!

started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.

©️nolovelingers 2023

#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ／ ⋆ ۪ NOLOVE FILEZ #tate langdon #tate langdon x reader #american horror murder house #murder house #ahs murder house #ahs fandom #fanfic #x reader #tate x reader #violet harmon #headcanon #tate ahs #tate langdon headcanon #american horror story #tate x violet #tate langdon x y/n #tate langdon x you #ty for the ask anon! #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters x you #please send me prompts #evan peters headcanon #tate langdon smut

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers chasing their victim (their future s/o) and in the middle of the chase their s/o just stops to grab and protect a little animal thinking they were going to hurt them (like a pup or kitten) how would they react

Can you also make their s/o chubby?:)

Plz and Ty

I didn't quite know how to bring up that the reader is supposed to be chubby in this one but I definitely imagined a chubby reader while writing it.

Slashers when their future s/o is protecting a small animal from them

Warning: Animal Death/Animal Cruelty (not described in any detail but it is mentioned and implied)

Jason Voorhees

He has been chasing you around for a few minutes now, and you are slowly starting to get winded. Then there is the small stray cat, dirty and terribly malnourished. There are a few of them living around the lake, you know that much. And the cat is right between him and you.

Oh no, he’s gonna crush the poor thing, you think, and your protective instinct overrides your self-preservation. You rush to the cat, pick it up and run away again, not noticing that Jason stopped following you and is just staring after you with wide eyes.

You hide in one of the cabins, hoping to be able to catch your breath for a few seconds before having to run away again. Your new companion is meowing at you.

„Hush, you’re gonna give us away“, you whisper hectically, when a huge shadow falls over you. You look up, and your heart drops into your stomach.

That’s it, you’re going to die. Jason is already reaching for your neck… then his hand slips lower, gently patting the cat’s head.

„H...huh?“

He saw what you did, how you risked your own life to save that little creature… and he admires that. Maybe you’re not so bad after all.

Vincent Sinclair

The creature you try to protect ends up being Jonesy, ironically. You see her in the Sinclair house and you’re to stressed and scared to even consider the possibility that she belongs to the people chasing you.

„Come on, please, they’re going to hurt you too if they find us“, you say to the dog while desperately trying to get her to follow you. „Come on, little one, I won’t hurt you, I promise-“

Vincent appears from the next room, looking at you for a long time. Jonesy happily runs up to him, tail wagging.

„...Oh. She’s your dog. Well don’t I look stupid now.“

His shoulders begin twitching, accompanied by a suppressed chuckle. He manages not to fully burst out laughing, but he can’t help himself; your awkwardness is just so *endearing*. He may want to keep you around just for that. Alive, of course. You won’t be half as entertaining if you’re dead and covered in wax.

Freddy Krueger

Really? You’re willing to sacrifice your life for an imaginary *hamster*? He thought that letting you see a bit of his past would be fun, and of all the fucked up things that happened in his life, him killing the class hamster when he was a kid is the only thing you take issue with? Not the fact that he murdered his foster father? Not the fact that he murdered *children*? No? The hamster it is? Okay, then. You got damn weird priorities, but Freddy likes weird. Maybe killing you would really be a waste, so he lets you live… for now.

Brahms Heelshire

„Brahms Heelshire, you let that rat go right this instant!“

Brahms actually flinches and does as he is told. The rat quickly disappears somewhere; you’re not sure where.

Once he gets over the shock, he gives you a sour pout. „Why? It’s just a rat.“

„It’s a living, breathing, feeling being.“

„So are cows and we still eat them.“

„Oh I’m sorry, is this household doing so poor financially that we have to resort to eating rats now?“ You cross your arms in front of your chest. „Well?“

„No“, Brahms says between gritted teeth.

„I thought so.“ You know that scolding Brahms is a delicate task; being too lenient with him means he won’t learn his lesson, and being just the slightest bit too harsh with him will result in an angry outburst. And those can end deadly. But that’s what you signed up for when you agreed to become his nanny… right?

„Rats carry diseases though. They shouldn’t be in the house“, Brahms continues to argue.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. „Yes, that’s why we have the traps out in the garden, and another reason why you shouldn’t touch them. I don’t particularly like having to kill the rats at all, but the traps do so as quickly and as painlessly as possible. So even if they have to die for our safety, there is no, and I repeat, NO reason to torture them. Understood?“

Brahms has his chin pressed firmly onto his chest now; the tension in his body shows that he is getting frustrated. „Yes.“

Okay, time to ease off a little.

„That’s my good Brahms.“ You smile at him.

Bubba Sawyer

Another case of mistaking your would-be-killer’s pet for another potential victim. In this case, it is a chicken. When you saw the poor thing in this room, sorrounded by human bone furniture, you didn’t dare imagine what this family would do to it.

„Hey… nice chicken… good chicken…“

At first you don’t see Bubba lingering at the entrance of the chicken room, looking at you gently speaking to his favourite.

When you notice him, you immediately grab the chicken and nudge it to the questionable safety behind your back.

Bubba looks at you and licks his lips. You are so nice to his chickens. He likes that.

You flinch when he comes inside and kneels down in front of you, pulling the chicken from behind your back into his arms and holding it up to you to pet, like any proud pet-parent.

„Oh… they chickens are yours? They look pretty well taken care of, actually…“ That, and this one is so calm, despite being held by this behemoth of a man.

You reach out and run your hand over the soft feathers, making Bubba smile, delighted.

#slasher x reader #jason voorhees x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #freddy krueger x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #bubba sawyer x reader

[literaila]

reassurance

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: megumi can't sleep

warnings: reader teases megumi, missing satoru

last part | next part

*

year one.

it’s your first night with the kids alone. 

and you’re not nervous—no, not at all. having satoru around is basically like having a toddler who’s learned how to walk and gets into cupboards (just maybe slightly more annoying and less cute), so why would you be worried without him here? 

honestly, it’s probably better this way. there’s no one to annoy megumi into hiding in his room all night. no one to use terrible pickup lines and swear that they’re working (they are). 

but… you will admit that his presence is a reassurance of its own. 

not just because of his power, or his strength, though that’s certainly something to consider. if someone was going to come and steal your children back, now might be a perfect opportunity. you know that they would lurk at your door waiting for a single moment that satoru was gone. and it would probably work, except for the fact that you’d sooner skin yourself with a dull knife from satoru’s kitchen than let that happen. 

obviously, satoru wouldn’t need to go to such extremes. one blink from him and any threat would basically evaporate. 

but it’s not even that.

satoru has always been that reassurance for you. despite any complaints you have about his attitude and the stupid things he says… it’s a welcome escape from the interminable worries in your mind. 

you’d discovered this at sixteen when the two of you were alone on a mission for the first time. 

if you were worried, if you got hurt, if you had a single doubt hidden beneath the warmth of your cursed energy or the bravado you’d foolishly flung around at that age—satoru was the complete opposite of all of that.

he would wave off your fears with a raised eyebrow. would laugh off your injuries before dragging you to the infirmary. he would take your doubts—with all of their hidden strength and knowledge—and purify them to a pulp. 

you’ve never quite understood it. 

where suguru would share your fears with you, assuring that you weren’t alone in the world of morality and fear, satoru would think of absolutely nothing at all. 

and make fun of him all you want, but it was a nice break from logic and emotion. you’d admired him at sixteen for being so detached from the world and its curses. 

(now, sometimes, it worries you. has he fallen so far from humanity that he can’t feel any of it? is he immune to the tortures of living in a world like yours?) 

and you got used to being alone with those thoughts and doubts. you had to, even if you’d missed him desperately for a time that felt much longer than a year. 

but you’ve also never had two children in your care, never had to worry about anything but yourself and the consequences of your very minute actions. 

now every action feels like a tidal wave you could point in any direction. 

if satoru was here, you think, at least you could blame the mistakes on him. comparatively, one of you is much better at being a responsible adult for tsumiki and megumi (hint: not the strongest sorcerer of the modern age). 

and with satoru on some egregious mission—to who knows where, directed by only the people who hate him the most—you’re stuck in his house, with the kids, all alone. 

it feels much too big in here without satoru’s ego to fill it. 

maybe if you’d had a day to prepare you’d be better off. but satoru called you six hours ago with the news—and you know that he did it on purpose—telling you that you should just stay the night. you can even sleep in my bed, he’d drawled to you, just like you’ve always dreamed of. 

you could’ve told him to go to hell, you know, if it weren’t for the sweetest little girl and the grumpiest little boy you’d ever met. 

and, actually, it hasn’t gone too bad so far. 

you made them dinner, which they both ate diligently like if they didn’t finish every bit on their plates you would kick them out—who knows if they liked it with the people-pleasing brats. and then they’d sat on the couch, commenting on some movie you’d never heard of. 

and now, at ten o’clock at night, you’re cleaning up the kitchen worrying about the very monsters you’d trained for four years to deal with. 

it's absolutely ridiculous, but there's no one here to tell you that. 

“what’s wrong with your face?” a voice says, suddenly. 

you turn to see megumi in the ridiculous pajamas satoru insisted on getting him—with some type of cat on them for god knows why—standing in the kitchen doorway with his signature frown. 

“jeez,” you breathe out, leaning against the counter—pretending like your cursed energy hadn’t surged in your fists the moment you saw him there—and crossing your arms. “don’t scare me like that, kid. did satoru tell you to do that?”

you almost want to laugh at how his frown deepens at the mention of his name. 

“sorry,” he murmurs, going to sit on a bar stool, just a bit too short to do it elegantly. “what’s wrong?” 

“what? nothings wrong.”

“your face looks weird.” 

oh, another thing about tonight. megumi is a lot more forthcoming when satoru isn’t around—you choose not to dwell on the prospects of that. you wonder what he’s like when you’re not around.

“i was just thinking," you say, blandly. 

“you have to have a freaky look on your face to think?” 

“okay, judgy," you sigh, leaning against the counter across from him, a brow quirked. "what are you doing up? it’s late.” 

megumi shrugs. “can't sleep.” 

he says it like he’s dealt with the same problems for many years like he’s not six years old and missing a tooth. it would be cute—how old and mature he seems—if it didn’t worry you. 

satoru would coo at him, call him an old soul and ruffle his hair until megumi smacked him away. 

but you wonder if he’s less an old soul and more of a hurt child. 

“are you thinking about the scary movie satoru showed you?” you ask him, frowning. “i heard tsumiki had nightmares about it a couple days ago.” 

“no. it wasn’t that scary. tsumiki just doesn’t like monsters.” 

“and you do?” 

he shrugs again. 

you tap your fingers against the countertop. “have you been up this whole time?” 

he nods. his movements are short and exact. “why are you still awake?” 

“i was cleaning up.” 

“gojo usually doesn’t do that until morning."

“what did we discuss at dinner?” you ask, rhetorically, shaking your head. “don’t do anything satoru does.” 

megumi nods again, very seriously. 

“do you need something? warm milk? my mom used to give me that when i couldn’t sleep.” 

the boy frowns. “gross.” 

“don’t knock it till you try it,” you tell him, smiling a little. “you were a baby once too.” 

he shakes his head and you laugh. you should be scolding him and telling him to go back to sleep, but it's rare when you get a moment alone with the little boy. you're almost savoring it.  

“did you try counting sheep?” you ask, teasing him. it's very easy when he looks almost... comfortable. 

he rolls his eyes, messing with a wrapper satoru left lying around, but you can tell that he's trying not to smile too. after three months with him, it's almost easy to see the subtle shift in his features. 

“when’s gojo going to be back?” he asks, after a moment, looking up at you with dark blue eyes. his voice is quieter, still like a portrait. 

you pause, considering. it's a surprising change of subject. honestly, you hadn't even thought that megumi had noticed he was gone. “um… i’m not sure. it could be tomorrow, it could be a couple days from now. it depends on how far he had to go for work.” 

“he’s killing curses right?” 

the words almost shock you into taking a step back, but you refrain. 

you make a mental note to smack satoru the next time you see him. 

your mouth opens. then you close it. “what does satoru tell you when i’m not here?” 

he scratches his head. “just that we’re privileged and that i can see things other people can’t.” 

you narrow your eyes at him. 

“and that he’s the best.” 

you roll your eyes. “yeah, that sounds like him.” 

“is he?” 

“hmm?” 

“the best?” 

you watch his eyes, suddenly wide, weirdly curious. “i guess,” you answer, a little teasing, a little serious. you don't really want to explain this to megumi. you shouldn't have to. “he’d be better if he didn’t brag about it all of the time.” 

“so he kills those things a lot?” 

“what do you mean?” 

“it’s normal for him?” he clarifies, leaning his small arms on the counter to observe you closely. 

if you weren't so used to this, you might feel a bit uncomfortable. 

“um, yes." you answer, not sure how far to go. "it’s pretty standard for sorcerers.” 

“like me, right?” 

“yes.” 

he nods, his brows still furrowed, thinking harder than a six-year-old should. in your personal opinion, he shouldn't have to worry about anything. 

but satoru clearly doesn't share that sentiment. 

it's quiet for a moment while megumi thinks about your words. he doesn't seem to be wary of his own powers, or the fact that he's been shoved into this world. but, still, this is a weird topic for him. 

it makes you wish again that satoru was here, just so you don't have to explain everything alone. he's much more clear than you are. 

after the silence draws on, megumi looks down at the counter with skeptical eyes, your brows raise in surprise. “are you--" you almost smile. "are you worried about him?” 

megumi’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. “what?” he snaps, voice harsher than you've heard it directed at you. “no.” 

your lip twitches. 

“it’s nice without him,” the boy continues. “he always tries to mess up my hair.” 

because this is the worst thing that satoru has done to the boy, obviously. 

you watch him as he looks away again, a little embarrassed. he shakes his head so his hair hides his face. 

“oh, yeah," you respond, a little sarcastic. "why would you miss him?” 

why would anybody? 

“right.” he pauses. from this close, you can see a pattern of freckles on his pale skin. he looks up again. “are you worried?” 

you almost smile. “no, he’s too annoying to get hurt.” 

megumi nods immediately. 

*

you’re eating breakfast with the kids when he appears at the table, his grin wide, his hair a bit wild. 

satoru is sitting with the three of you before you can blink, his arms open wide, his blindfold a bit crooked. 

you gasp and both children flinch away at his sudden appearance. 

he is quite scary. 

“hey, family,” he says to all of you, smoothly. “what’d i miss?” 

megumi stands up from the table, taking a step away from the man, and you smack his head. 

tsumiki just giggles. 

*

next part

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #satoru gojo #gojo saturo #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #gojo #jujustu kaisen #satoru gojō x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu sorcerer #a typical family

[just-aake]

Thankful for You

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: You invite a mysterious red-haired stranger to join you for a Thanksgiving dinner. 

Warnings: light fluff, light angst

Words: 2547

Sitting alone on a bench in some park, Natasha looks up at the sky when the sound of thunder rumbles and echoes through the trees. 

Soon, she feels drops of water drip down her face as rain begins to pour all around her. She must have looked crazy to anybody who saw her, drenched from head to toe, just sitting alone in the park and staring stoically at the sky.

It didn’t matter though. There was no chance of anyone being around at this time anyway, given what day it was.

Thanksgiving Day 

A time when friends and family spend time with their loved ones and express gratitude for the good things in their lives. 

Natasha’s lips twitched slightly with a hint of amused resignation at the thought–the holiday defined everything that she didn’t have.

No friends – the mission in Budapest with Clint helped form a good teammate relationship, but even after other missions together, they have not reached the point where Natasha believes Clint has trusted her enough to be considered friends, and that sentiment is also returned by her.

No family – she was abandoned by her actual mother when she was a child, and as for her other temporary family, she has not tried to find any of them; though, she hoped Yelena was still alive and able to escape after Dreykov was killed.

No good thing in her life – she has been trained to be a killer her entire life, doing terrible things for others just to survive. She has always been a tool to be used. Now after recently joining Shield, she is still not sure if there will be any changes to her life that would ever be good.

There is nothing for her.

Natasha closes her eyes as she lets the rain hit her face, hoping that time will pass by quicker and end this dreadful day so that she can return to work and go on missions again. 

Suddenly, the consistent sound of rainfall is interrupted by a small splash in the distance, which Natasha already deduced as a single person’s footsteps.

With her eyes still closed, Natasha’s brow twitches slightly when she realizes that the steps are coming closer to her position. However, judging based on the unhurried pace and sensing no malicious intent from them, Natasha ultimately decides there is no threat with this newcomer.

They are probably just another individual on their way to some Thanksgiving party or dinner.

Natasha is about to return to her previous mindless thoughts when the footsteps suddenly stop.

In front of her

Natasha frowns when she no longer feels the cold touch of rain falling on her. Opening her eyes in confusion, the first thing she sees is the underside of an umbrella hovering above her head. 

Following the stem of the umbrella down to the hand holding it, her eyes eventually meet yours. 

Standing in front of her, you give her a small smile as you hold the umbrella above the two of you, shielding both of you from the rain.

Natasha glances down at your other hand, which holds a couple of bags of what looks like drinks and snacks.

When she returns her gaze to yours with a questioning look, your smile turns sheepish, unaffected by the intimidating glint Natasha has in her expression.

“This might be weird and a bit forward,” you start before nodding your head in a particular direction, “but would you like to come back to my apartment to dry off and wait out the rain there?” you offer her gently.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

In the hallway of your apartment building, Natasha stands with her arms folded, closely observing you as you fumble to find your keys. 

She is still unsure about why she accepted your offer. 

Maybe it was a curiosity to understand the kind of person you are—whether genuinely generous and kind or perhaps just naive and clueless. 

Or worse, you might just be offering help only to boost your own ego and feel superior; she’s met enough of those kinds of people during her brief time at Shield already.

Seeing you continue to struggle with the bags, umbrella, and keys in your hands, Natasha wordlessly extends her hand toward you in a silent offer. 

You pause at the gesture, your mouth opening slightly in surprise.

“Thanks,” you say softly, accepting her offer of help.

Natasha raises an eyebrow curiously when you only hand her some of the bags, not all, just enough relief for you to find the key and open the door of your apartment.

Walking into the apartment, you leave the door open almost as if it were an invitation to her, with no pressure to accept. 

She could just walk away and leave now, forgetting that she ever met you.

Again, Natasha doesn’t know why she decides to enter. 

However, maybe this time, it is partially due to the fact that she is still holding some of your bags from earlier.

Once she closes the door behind her, your voice calls her from the kitchen, and when she comes closer,  she sees that you are already in the process of sorting your items into their appropriate area. 

Glancing up at her approach, you ask her casually.

“So what’s your name?”

In response, Natasha presses her lips in a thin line, deciding on how much she should share with you, given her new 'clean slate.'

At her hesitance, you give her an amused smile.

“You know, it doesn’t have to be your real name. I just need something to call you instead of saying, ‘Have a seat, stranger’,” you tease lightly.

Understanding your point, Natasha contemplates for a second before settling on a safe option.

“Call me Nat.”

You repeat the name a couple of times softly under your breath before nodding your head satisfied and giving her a welcoming smile. 

“I’m Y/n.”

“Y/n…?” Natasha trails off in question for your last name, her instincts automatically activated to obtain as much information as possible.

You chuckle amusedly at her, going over to her to grab the bags from her hands. Turning around, you make your way back to your kitchen.  

“You never gave me yours,” you point out over your shoulder.

Natasha’s eyes widen slightly, impressed at your deflection. So, you are not completely naive. She decides to initiate another conversation to learn more.

“You know, it’s pretty reckless to invite a stranger into your home,” Natasha points out as she examines your living space. It was a small apartment but comfortable for one person to live in. She can spot your personal touches throughout the area, making it feel cozy and warm.

“It’s pretty reckless to follow a stranger to their home too,” you quip back at her. “What if I was a serial killer?”

Natasha huffs in disbelief, shaking her head and crossing her arms. 

“I don’t think so.”

You shrug casually as you take the remaining items out of the bag. 

“You’re right. I don’t think I even have the strength to take somebody down.” 

Finally finished with putting away your things, you lean back against your kitchen table, crossing your arms in a similar position as her.

“You, however, definitely look like you know how to fight,” you state plainly.

Natasha frowns skeptically at your wording, her defenses raising slightly in preparation.

Seeing her expression change defensively, you relax your posture and gesture to her body in explanation. 

“Your wet clothes are sticking to your skin, and I can see your muscles and abs from here.” 

Examining herself, Natasha can see what you mean. Her light clothes clinging to her skin reveal the contours of her toned body clearly.

Natasha returns her attention to you when you snap your fingers. 

“That reminds me. I need to get you some dry clothes. Wait here,” you tell her.

Before Natasha can respond, you leave through another door that she assumes is your bedroom. 

Natasha remains in her position, staring at where you left in confusion as she tries to figure you out. 

You’re not evil or dangerous–she is certain about that. You’re also not completely clueless and blindly trusting. 

And you are honest but careful. She recognizes the subtle hints of caution with your actions and words, but you don’t overtly show distrust towards her. 

You give off the impression of making an effort to maintain a welcoming atmosphere with her, but Natasha can sense that this isn’t a familiar territory for you.

It feels like a door attempting to close, yet a small invisible force is working to keep it open.

She is brought out of her thoughts when you return to the room and stand in front of her.

“Here you go,” you offer some clothes to her and then point to another door behind her. “Bathroom’s right there, and there should already be some towels that you can use to dry yourself off in there.”

You tilt your head curiously when she doesn’t move. 

“Thanks,” Natasha finally whispers before taking the clothes, her hand touching yours lightly. That brief touch left a lingering warmth in her hand as she headed to the bathroom. 

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Upon leaving the bathroom, Natasha is greeted by the beeping of the fire alarm and the sight of you standing on a chair, fervently waving a towel at the smoke alarm.

You don’t notice her presence when she quietly joins you in the kitchen, too focused on your task of silencing the annoying beeping sound. 

Standing on your tiptoes to reach the smoke alarm button, the chair beneath you wobbles as you shift your balance. After finally pressing the button, you exclaim softly in victory, but the chair wobbles again, causing you to lose your balance.

Instinctively, your hands reach out for the back of the chair or table to stop your descent, but to your surprise, instead of cold furniture, you feel a warm touch. 

Natasha gently holds your arms in a supportive grip, steadying you back on your feet. 

“Be careful,” she cautions lightly.

When you don’t respond and just stare at her in surprise, she raises a questioning brow at you.

Shaking your head lightly to snap out of your thoughts, you give her a small, appreciative smile.

“Thanks,” you tell her before turning to look at the pot on the stove and then back to her with a sheepish expression.

“I hope you like slightly burnt mac n cheese.”

The two of you sit across each other in silence as you both eat the dinner that you made.

Natasha eats slowly, glancing at you whenever you are not looking in observation. The food tasted normal, nothing special, but for some reason, every bite she took made her feel this warmth inside.

Eventually, you break the silence with a question to her.

“So, Nat, you had any Thanksgiving plans?”

“No.”

You nod your head in understanding. 

“Yeah, me too. I didn’t even plan on making anything tonight, but I thought maybe I could make you a small Thanksgiving meal. Luckily, I found some of these mac n cheese boxes in the cabinet. But if you are still hungry, there are also some chips and cookies that you can snack on.”

Natasha’s lips quirked up slightly, amused at your rambling.

Your eyes widen at the sight before pointing out happily.

“Oh! You smiled. I was hoping to cheer you up, even if just a little.”

Natasha furrows her brows curiously at your words, giving you a questioning look at what you meant.

“Why did you invite me here, Y/n?” Natasha asks.

You sit back against your chair at the question, already expecting it eventually. Playing with the bottle in your hand and spinning it on its edge in a random pattern for a moment, you finally let out a deep breath.

“To be honest, I saw you earlier today when I left. Then again, on my way home. You had the same sad expression during both times,” you admit softly before raising the bottle to your lips.

You shrug nonchalantly, saying, “I guess, something about the way you looked reminded me of myself.”

Natasha watches you take a sip as she tries to understand the meaning of your words.

Seeing her confused expression, your smile turns downward slightly as you explain.

“My parents passed away on Thanksgiving.”

You wave away her concerned gaze reassuringly.

“It happened long ago. There was a car accident on the way to a Thanksgiving gathering. I was upset at something stupid at the time like most teenagers do, so I didn’t go with them.”

You let out a regretful breath at the memory, a brief lingering sadness in your eyes before shaking your head and giving her a rueful smile.

“Typically, when this day comes around, I get too depressed to be around anyone, but when I saw you, I had a sudden thought.”

You lean forward, placing your hands on the table, and raise your eyebrows at her as you explain.

“On the day when people gather together to be happy and thankful, I thought why don’t the two sad souls also try coming together?” 

At Natasha's doubtful expression, you continue your explanation.

“Maybe there’s a chance we can cheer each other up, even temporarily, and if we can’t, then we can always just be sad together.”

Natasha stares at you with wide eyes, astonished at your words. You are even more intriguing than she thought.

You give her a small smile at her reaction, turning one of your hands upward in an open invitation to her.

“What do you think, Nat? Do you feel a little bit better or should I just bring out the entire case of beer for the remainder of tonight?”

Staring at your open palm offered to her, Natasha notices the same lack of pressure to accept as before. 

That’s when Natasha realizes something.

For the first time in a long while, in an unfamiliar apartment, wearing clothes that weren’t her own, and eating a slightly burnt meal prepared for her, Natasha was experiencing an unexpected sense of comfort and warmth, relieving her of the previous emotions that had weighed on her before. 

All thanks to you.

And as she expected, when Natasha places her hand atop yours, she feels your warmth spreading to her through your touch.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

The next morning, as you enter the living room, you are not surprised to find the empty couch, with neatly folded blankets and your clothes on the cushions – no signs of yesterday's guest.

Turning around to prepare for the day, you notice a small note on your kitchen table and, upon reading it, you smile gently.

Sorry, I left without a goodbye. I had to leave early. I wanted to let you know, compared to my original plan for this holiday, I’m glad I spent it with you. Maybe next time we meet, I can make you a meal that isn't as burnt as thanks. From one sad soul to another. – Natasha Romanoff

You say her real name out loud softly with a small smile, grateful that you took the chance to meet the mysterious stranger. Anticipation builds as you look forward to the next opportunity to see her again.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thanks for reading! I am still working on Boundless Devotion. I just got a little busy lately. Hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving!

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

[mikanotes]

happy sweet home season 2 release everyone!!! i just watched the final ep and started screaming. here’s something quick! greetings from, lee eunhyuk x gn!reader, warning sweet home season 2 spoilers possibly ooc eunhyuk im trying to decide how different he shld be, mentions of scars. cheers

“Took you long enough.”

Eunhyuk scoffs silently, hands buttoning up a white shirt over his figure. Unharmed. Clean. Possibly unstoppable, now. His gaze is on his own reflection but his focus is on you, sitting nearby with your back towards him.

“Mm.” he hums, a small smile pulling at his lips. “Did you miss me?” he asks, something like a teasing tone to his voice.

You turn to look at him through the mirror and he raises his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and turn back. “No.”

Eunhyuk smirks a little at that. He tugs at his collar to make sure his shirt looks fine, out of habit, then heaves a deep sigh and turns around. He walks over to the couch you’re sitting on and sits at your side, eyes on the book in your hands.

“Is that why you kept things for me?”

Clothes. A pair of glasses. Books he used to read during your time at Green Home.

“Who said they were for you?”

Eunhyuk is dead. Anyone from Green Home would have agreed with this statement. This fact. But you refused to believe it. Parting ways with the rest of the survivors you knew (as well as the only other person who shared your feelings on this matter), avoiding the military and living in isolation, you had decided to try and make living bearable. Settling in an old apartment in a small building near the river. With enough practice from before, you had traps settled around the place and at least one or two weapons.

You used to stay at the shelter at the stadium, but hated all about it. It was much too many people and too much change all at once. No matter how organized it was, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stay. So you left, and made your own home.

Maybe it was luck that you came back to check on Green Home a day after Eunhyuk came back.

(Maybe it was meant to be.)

“How long have you been living here?” he asks quietly. He watches your eyes scan the page on your book, watches the twitch of your lips when you hum in thought, watches every detail that he missed during this time. Time passes weirdly in the state he was in, and a lot changes. A lot doesn’t. Like feelings. “I missed you.”

You turn to look at him and he tilts his head. His expression is serious and his voice is as steady as it always is.

“Thank god, you survived.”

You stare at him for a while, silent, before looking away. “You didn’t even give me time to answer.” you sigh. “It’s been ten months here. I spent two at a shelter before I got sick of it.”

“Was it bad?”

“Terrible.” you say, “I’m sorry I left Eunyu there. She can handle herself well enough, though.”

Eunhyuk sighs at that. That’s a whole other problem. At least she’s alright. “I’ll find her eventually.” he nods to himself, gaze on the floor. “I have a lot of people to find, anyways.”

“You’re so strange.” you comment, suddenly closing your book and shifting your whole attention to him. Eunhyuk does the same in turn, gaze focused on yours.

“As in?”

“You’ve changed.”

Eunhyuk blinks slowly, before narrowing his eyes. You’re not wrong. But not right either.

“You too.”

You reach your hand to his face and hold the side of it gently. He tilts his head slightly into your palm, not breaking eye contact. It was worth waiting, even if just to see you again. Your eyes are colder and your skin gained a few more scars. He’s mildly annoyed he couldn’t keep away anything that hurt you, though he knows it simply wasn’t possible. He could direct his anger towards the other people that were with you.

But humans are just so… weak. How could anyone ever count on them?

“In any case, you don’t have to worry anymore.” he says, sounding almost cold. “Not even a little bit.”

He’s here, now, and he intends to make sure you won’t have to change more than you already have because of this hellish world.

#eunhyeok x reader #lee eunhyeok x reader #eunhyuk x reader #lee eunhyuk x reader #lee eun hyuk x reader #lee eun hyeok x reader #sweet home x reader #x reader

[insecure-snek]

I feel like this is probably an unpopular opinion (that’s why I’m posting here and not on twitter) but I just wanna know if anyone else feels this way.

Obviously, I think Wilbur is the one Shelby is talking about, and as someone who was also abused, I feel stronger hearing her story. I hope she’s able to find peace soon.

Maybe I’m just an overly optimistic person, but I think Wilbur needs help. A lot of it. And I think, probably not a popular idea, that even though he’s a piece of shit in this situation, that he deserves it.

I’m an overly trusting person by nature. Obviously I wasn’t there when any of this happened. I am just a stranger on the internet. I don’t know what went on, I didn’t see anything happen. However, I think I want Wilbur to get better and I think he can.

He needs to be deplatformed. At least until he has PUBLICLY apologized to Shelby, and is showing to his friends (not us, the audience, not only Shelby, EVERYONE HE KNOWS PERSONALLY) that he is making an effort to never treat another person like that again. But I think, and please don’t come with your pitchforks for me, the person Wilbur abuses the most is himself.

He clearly has other problems that are not making him a good person. Mental health is not a excuse for poor behavior. However, it is an explanation. Your mental health issues and trauma are not your fault, however, managing both those things are unfortunately YOUR responsibility. They are HIS Responsibility to fix and manage, not Shelby’s, not Phil’s, not James, NO ONE BUT HIM.

Call me stupid, or crazy, or whatever, but I firmly believe in the idea of (almost) every human being capable of change. I have siblings who used to treat me terribly, who are much older than me, and I was hurt by them. But as I grew, I saw them realize just how terrible they treated me. They changed their behavior, and apologized to me many many times. They showed me people can wake up and change their lives around. And, whether or not Wilbur comes back to content creation, I hope he gets the help he so clearly needs.

Shelby owes him nothing. His fan base owes him nothing. His friends owe him nothing. Wilbur owes them everything. Shelby deserves to hold back her forgiveness when it so clearly isn’t deserved. She should never forgive him if she doesn’t want to. That’s her right.

Maybe I believe in people too much. But I truly hope he changes. Not only for his friends, family, and loved ones, but for his own sake. He’s going to end up dead if he continues this way, and I believe no one deserves to die. (I’m not even for the death penalty. Let them sit and suffer forever).

Anyway, get some rest all, drink some water, and remember that the world becoming a better place starts with you. Treat people the way you wanna be treated. 💕

Update: Wilbur’s response was absolutely awful, no surprise there. As someone else who responded said, abusers often don’t think of themselves as such. I still hope he gets help. Props to ranboo and all the others standing up to him. I hope this wakes him the fuck up. Until further notice, please stop supporting him. Unfollow him, un add his music, whatever you can to get him to deeply regret this shit he’s done. Those were his actions. These are the consequences.

#wilbur soot #twitter

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I was given oral herpes by someone who didn't feel the need to disclose that they got cold sores before we had a one-time little dalliance.

I might've gone for it anyways. I'm self destructive. But I guess the lack of being able to choose whether to take the risk, it's left me feeling pretty bitter about the experience.

And I'm left feeling like a biohazard. I haven't really been able to explain to my friends yet why I'm suddenly extremely cagey about sharing my drinks and food. And all my favorite sexual activities are off the table forever. I know, dental dams, condoms, but half the fun of oral sex and making out is, you know, the taste, the heat, the absolute control. I was good at it.

It feels especially embarrassing since I'm ace and the whole reason I hooked up with the person was kind of... I don't know, fear that if I didn't, then we wouldn't be able to hang out anymore.

I'm not sure what I'm asking. Maybe, was it wrong for them not to disclose something like that? Considering how common it is? I feel obligated to disclose myself but maybe I'm just weird for that.

Thanks for doing what you do here.

Kind regards,

Asexual for Ethical Reasons Now I Guess

hi anon,

I don't often apologize for needing time to get to anons, because I really need people to have reasonable expectations about the amount of time I'm willing to commit to my inbox, but I am sorry for not getting to this one sooner. it's a topic that's very important to me, and I can tell you're dealing with a lot of hurt.

first off: I'm very sorry someone wasn't totally honest with you. that's never a good feeling, and especially in the context of sex it's a huge betrayal of trust. it's deeply unfair to you, and I hope you're able to recover from that.

having said that: you are not a biohazard. you're a person with an incredibly common virus. the World Health Organization estimates that somewhere around 80% of people worldwide have herpes (and that's a rough estimate, since they use different age ranges for HSV-1 and HSV-2). skip to the factual part of this tiktok at 00:10 seconds. herpes has been with us since before we were human; there's nothing disgusting or even unusual about having herpes.

herpes is different from most STIs in that it is lifelong, but that doesn't make you an unfuckable pariah. it makes you someone who may sometimes have open sores, and should give partners a heads up about your virus to avoid putting anyone in the same situation you're in. while you're at it, let them know that most people with herpes live asymptomatic and uncomplicated lives. many people never even know they have it!

I understand that spending the rest of your life with a viral buddy doesn't sound super fun right now, but I promise that as viruses go you can do WAY worse.

personally I've always felt the best way to get comfortable with something is to learn more about it. why not let clinical sexologist Dr. Doe talk to you about her own herpes, and how to be conscientious about minimizing the risk of sharing herpes with others?

or listen to writer Ella Dawson talk about learning to cope with the exact stigma you're currently struggling with?

or listen to Dr. Sydnee Smirl McElroy explain why herpes bears such a heavy stigma for such a mild virus in the first place?

you're not a biohazard, and neither is anyone else with an STI. that's a terrible way to think about yourself and others.

you're under no obligation to stop being sexually active if you don't want to be.

please don't feel that you have to have sex with anyone out of a sense of obligation anymore, but also please don't feel that herpes is a punishment. sickness isn't something that happens to people because they're bad or deserve, sickness happens to people because people get sick.

take care 💜

#sex edventures 2024