#ok head hurts a little now so I’m actually going to shut up and put my phone down for a bit

[scudslut]

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

stay with me

daryl x fem!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/ptsd

a/n: absolutely love me some good fluffy angst, thank u nony❤️ i hope you like it:))

As much as you tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable situations runs would put you in, the blood-chilling reality of it never got any easier. No amount of mental prep could stove off the sounds and smell of the dead, nipping ravenously for a taste of your sweet living flesh.

Of course, over time you’d learned just to shut your brain off and fight. Fight as hard and tirelessly as you possibly could, but mistakes could still be made. Shit happened, whether it was your fault or not.

Hours earlier, a group of you went a few miles east of the prison; Daryl having spotted a little strip a few days prior, not too overrun that he thought might be loot-worthy.

It was a simple run really. Keep close, hit a few shops in and out, then head back home. That’s it. Follow the plan, get as much useful shit as possible, and get the fuck out of there. You guys had it down to a science at this point, runs becoming so second nature it was almost too easy to let your guard down nowadays.

“Hey D, I’m gonna go check the storage room back here. Might have something we could use,” you voiced to your partner a few isles down, still keeping your tone as low as you could.

“Gimme a sec, I'll come help ya,” you heard him say but you kept moving. You two had already cleared the main area, you could handle a walker or two if there actually was any behind the small door. You figured you would’ve heard something by now, some sort of banging or grumbling to announce their presence, but there was nothing, the coast presumably clear.

You should have waited.

Crossing the few miscellaneous isles you reached the back door, giving it a small rattle. Still complete silence, not even the faintest groan or shuffle. Knife at the ready, hand clamped over the cool metal handle, your heart rate picked up a notch as it always did before opening into the unknown.

“You got this, come on,” you muttered to yourself, before throwing the door open, bracing for attack. The door flew wide, only to reveal a dark, empty room. Squinting through the dimness, a few high, dusty shelves were visible, stocked with all sorts of canned goods. Fuck yea, that was certainly useful.

“D! Come look what I found!” you rasped, dropping your knife into its holster and shuffling in. You unslung your backpack from your shoulders, digging through it for a flashlight excitedly. It’s been so long since you’ve found this much canned food, surely enough to keep the group well stocked through most of the winter that was approaching. A loud creak from the left caught your attention as you sped forward. Hands finally finding purchase on the flashlight, you flicked it on, scanning across the room to the sound.

Dust caked the air, making the already dark room fuzzier and your eyes took a minute to adjust. You took a few smaller steps closer, peering wearily ahead and then you saw them.

Beady, soulless eyes staring back. A whole rickety staircase of them, heads turning one by one to the light source in your hand.

“Oh fuck.”

There had to be at least 10 of them that you could see, the top of the stairs pitch black and unrevealing.

Your feet stumbled backward, hands desperately reaching for the knife at your hip, dropping the flashlight in the process. It rolled and caught under your heels, knocking you on your ass as the corpses advanced, jaws snapping.

These were those moments. When you felt your heart in your throat, brain stuttering on action. Time moved so slowly that the fragments were almost visible and every thought screaming in your mind sounded like gibberish. You know you should move, is that what it was screaming?

The first one got to you, grabbing your leg trying to crawl up and finally, you were kicking, scrambling, grabbing onto the knife and slamming it into its skull with a loud squelch.

“Daryl!” you yelled. You needed him. Now.

3 more dropped before you, slinking towards you and you were trapped — the first corpse lying heavily over your midsection.

“Yea, yea girl. I heard ya,” you heard him respond, still sounding a few isles away.

No no no, this was not how you were gonna die. Not today. Please.

You kept stabbing, each kill taking everything out of you as you struggled against the body weight atop you. They just kept piling, you could hardly feel your legs anymore, the circulation surely cut off below your knees. And more were coming, a never-ending stream of hunger.

Another one landed before you and you had just enough time to catch its shoulders before it was inches away, snapping at your neck. Your arms burned, tears welling in your eyes as you realized this could be it. You didn’t know how much longer you had before they gave out and rotting teeth would be sinking into you, tearing you apart.

The walker kept snapping, so close you could see the layers of rotting flesh peeling from its face. You had been close to walkers before, had stared into the lifeless eyes too many times to count, but this was different. More were coming and the face in the reflection of its eyes was barely recognizable — terror painting every feature you’d known on you distorted.

The bones cracked in its left shoulder and it dislocated, dropping down to centimeters from your skin.

“No,” you sobbed quietly. Daryl wasn’t going to make it, you knew that. He was going to walk in and find his girl as dinner. You hoped he just booked it, and didn’t waste his time trying to save what would long be gone.

The walker fell limp in your arms and you flinched harshly, expecting excruciating pain to follow as it bit. But there was nothing.

“The fuck are ya doing! Get up!”

Daryl was suddenly right before you, ripping each body off your aching limbs and you were now acutely aware of the larger pile by the stairs, all with arrows and stab wounds littering their heads. When had he gotten in here?

You didn’t hear his words, adrenaline coursing so loudly through your system that all that could be heard was a loud, shrill ringing.

“Goddammit girl, wake the fuck up!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders in an attempt to lift you. Your brain caught up then, as he harshly placed you on your feet. Walkers scattered the floor around you, and a grumble at the stairs announced it wasn’t the last of them.

Daryl reached down, grabbed your dropped items, and shoved them in your dumbstruck hands. “We’re gettin’ outta here, now,” he seethed, dragging you along and slamming the door behind you both, crossing the lines of isles quickly to the front entrance.

The fresh, afternoon air hit your nose in a gust and the last of the fuzz chipped itself from your senses slowly.

“Hope yer fuckin happy with yerself. Can’t ever listen to a goddamn word’a mine, can ya?” Daryl quipped beside you. His eyes were slits as they dug into you, so fuming you could see the heat radiating off his skin in the early autumn brisk.

He was angry at you, you knew that. But you also knew it was because he was scared. Hell, you were fucking terrified to stone back there, but if you wanted to calm him down at all, you knew you had to act unfazed.

Gathering any remaining wits about you, you took a deep inhale, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting them.”

He didn’t respond, wouldn’t even look at you anymore as he began to pace the graveled parking lot.

“Hey don’t stress Dar. I’m alive, we’re good,” you attempted to soothe further.

“Don’t stress? Yer a real piece a work, y’know that! Always fucking up everyone’s shit cause ya don’t wanna use yer brain, huh?”

Well, that did not go as you expected.

The rest of the group had started shuffling out of the other shops around you, making their way to the vehicles.

“Jeez, you need to lighten up,” you brushed past him, head high. You couldn’t let his words affect you, not with all the other emotions coursing as well. You didn’t understand what he meant. You had never put anyone other than yourself in danger, how could you possibly be fucking over everyone else?

You decided to wait in the car as the rest of the group went back for the cans, tag-teaming whatever walkers remained. The loot had decently filled both trunks and everyone was happy to call it a day and head back.

Your eyes followed Daryl as he jumped into your car, eyes trained on the windshield, “Ya alright at least?” he muttered glancing at you briefly while shifting the car into drive.

“I’m good, you big grump,” you huffed with a tight-lipped smile. “That much food will last us a long time. I believe a thank you is in order, don’t you think?”

You were not good. Not at all, but there was no reason to worry him anymore, putting him through enough today as it was. Your hands were shoved tightly under your thighs, so he couldn’t see the tremors racking through you.

You had smelt death so many times it didn’t bother you much anymore. Today you had smelt your own. Saw your life in that walker's eyes, mere seconds away from demolition. It was safe to say you were shaken to your core.

The journey back was silent, both not in the mood to chat for very different reasons, and the whole time you were trying to keep each breath of yours steady.

You helped unload as much as you could, before slipping away discreetly to your cell. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you felt kind of pathetic honestly. This was life now, it had been this way for a long time now, you shouldn’t be so shaken up as you were but the terror just wouldn’t leave your body.

Panic washed over you once again as your eyes hit your dim cell. Your mind was quickly slipping back into those last moments, the darkness and dust all too similar. The fear you had felt coating your veins icily and your breaths started to become agitated. There was nowhere else to go though. If you left the cell someone would see you.

Subconsciously, you backed yourself into the corner of the room, crumbling down to the floor with your head in your hands. Deep down you hoped your hyperventilating would knock you out. You didn’t want to think anymore — see it anymore. Tears were burning the back of your throat as you held down sobs, feeling the walker's hands and weight atop of you all again.

A small yelp escaped you when the hands became real. Pressure on your shoulders and waist and your head snapped up from its hiding spot, reflexes already prepared to fight whatever presence was with you.

“It’s jus’ me, hey, hey,” you heard through your panic, his blue eyes just recognizable through blurry tears. “S’okay, relax.”

You couldn’t calm down this time, vicious sobs finally breaking their way out of your frame. Running was your first thought; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, Daryl or not. Emotions were never a strong suit of yours and would always find yourself dealing with them in private, away from sympathetic words and pitying eyes. But Daryl was never like that, he drew you in and held you tight, uttering no more words other than the ones to confirm it was him. If you asked him to say more, he would, but he knew this was what you needed. Someone to ground you back onto Earth and out of whatever images tormented your head.

So that’s what he did. Held you for hours as your body expelled all its terror and lingering adrenaline. He’d give quiet coos through each wave of shakes, grabbing a blanket to warm you through the cold sweats. And finally, once the fear faded to exhaustion, he scooped you up off the stiff concrete and into your soft cot.

“Stay with me?” you rasped, throat parched and raw from crying.

It wasn’t a second thought for him. He was never truly angry with you, and he knew you knew that. He needed you safe with him.

“Always.”

#daryl dixon #norman reedus #the walking dead #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon smut #twd drabbles #daryl x reader #fem!reader #twd daryl dixon #twd #daryl twd #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #twd smut #twdedit #daryl dixon x reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl drabbles #daryl x female reader #daryl x y/n #the walking dead x reader

[scar-lie]

Omega Pt. 13 {Natasha}

Summary : Talking and asking Natasha are hard enough but feeling rejected are even disappointing

Pairing : Alpha ! Natasha Romanoff x Omega ! Reader

Warning : Nothing other than feeling hurt

Word count : 1.596

{OMEGA PT. 12} {OMEGA PT. 13} {OMEGA PT. 14}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it please let me know

You're standing in front of Natasha's room, knocking, and when the door opened, you smiled at her, but she just got out of the way so you could come in.

“Sorry, I lost track of time playing with them, but don't worry, they are clean and ready to pick up.” Natasha has had the pups for hours, and she was supposed to bring them back an hour ago for bedtime, but she was just so lost on them that she lost track of time.

“It's ok, actually, uhm...” You shyly shift on your spot, getting nervous about what you're going to ask because, since the talk three days ago, she has tried to avoid the subject and you as much as possible.

“Can we sleep here? ”The question makes her tense and look up at you, shocked and analyzing you, so you quickly look down, knowing asking something like this to the alpha after rejection might not go well.

“I can take the corner, or we if you don't want to sleep next to them,” you fidget the hem of your shirt, getting nervous and expecting her to reject the offer, because for the past 3 weeks all you wanted was to talk to her or be near her, and for James, he put distance between you two because, first, he knows the alpha you want is talk to her or be near her, and for James, he put distance between you two because first, he knows the alpha you want is Natasha, and Natasha wants you, so he distance himself to not make things more complicated than they are, and second, he already found her omega.

“What? ”You grip the hem of your shirt, accepting her response as a rejection, so you sigh and look up at her with a small smile.

“Nothing; can I have them now? .... It's already past their bedtime.” You didn't wait for her answer; you quickly took two to put them in your room and came back to another one.

You're so embarrassed that you almost run just so you could leave right away from her gaze, and when you're in your safe place, your room with your pups, you quickly shut the door, sigh heavily, and start to get ready for the night.

But 5 minutes after you lay down with your pups, there's three soft knocks on your door, making you frown. You're not expecting anyone at this time, not unless Wanda or Yelena need something.

But before you could stand up or shout to the other person on the other side to come in, the door squeaked, making you nervous and scared until it was slightly open. Then Natasha's face was shown, making you sigh in relief.

“Hey, sorry for bothering you at this time, but...” Natasha clears her throat while you sit up on the bed and look at her.

“Can I sleep here instead? "I could take the floor or the couch." You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Natasha has come to you for the first time in 3 days and is asking something so cutely that makes you smile a little, but Natasha feels the opposite; she feels nervous and scared, not sure if this is right that it makes her feel small.

“Or not, it's ok, I’m just going to go back to my room.” Natasha lowered her head, ready to close your door, but you quickly took the comforter off of you.

“No, Nat, wait.” You took her arm and lightly tugged her, so she looked back and looked at your face with a small smile.

“You can sleep here.” You open the door widely and move to the side for her to come in. She smiles at you and holds her pillow tightly, then comes in.

“Thanks, I’ll just take the floor.” You shake your head at her and then take her hand.

“No, you can sleep with us in the bed; there's plenty of room anyway,” you softly said, and when you realize that you're holding her hand, you quickly look away from her but never take your hands off of her.

“It's ok, I’m just going to take the floor, I insist.” You nodded at her and retrieved your hand. Honestly, it's kind of hurtful that she refused to sleep with you and the pups, but you understand her and the situation. I mean, you two weren't mates anymore. 

"Ok,” you go. Take your thickest blanket for her to lay down on and use as a mattress, then a blanket and another pillow for her to use, to at least make her feel comfortable on the cold, hard floor of your room.

You plan to lay it beside you, but when you see her walk to the end of the bed, you quickly go lay it where she is.

“Tell me if you need another thick blanket to lay down or if it's uncomfortable.” You then put the pillow down and stand at the bed, giving her space to get comfortable.

“Thanks, have a good night.” You just give her a small smile and go back to lay down beside your pups.

But the thing is, even if you try hard to sleep, you just can't. The urge to lay beside her makes it so hard to control yourself to just lay beside her and her scents that's lingering in the air of your room. It took every single fiber of your being to not just get up and be with her.

So when the clock hits 2 a.m. You sit up and set your bed to have a barrier around the edges so the pups won't fall down, then you go stand before Natasha with your pillow. You're contemplating whether this is a good decision or not.

“Just do it,” you sigh and slowly crowl next to her, then put your pillow beside hers and slowly lift her right arm since she's lying on her left, then slowly and carefully scoot in the space in front of her, your back facing her front, then gently lay her arm around your waist.

But you didn't expect her to shift, then tighten her hold on you, then pull you closer, cuddling with you while she nuzzles her face in the back of your head, smelling your hair and scent. Your heart flutters and beats faster, happy that she still finds your scent pleasant and is still looking for it, but that’s quickly taken away from you when Natasha sits up and scoots away from you.

“You shouldn’t be here sleeping; you should be in your bed.” You sit up and turn around her, disappointed and hurt while clenching your hands on the comforter in your lap.

“I know, I just want to sleep with you,” you mumble, but she could still hear it. You then bite your lower lips, getting nervous and shy around her.

“Just go back to bed and sleep, please.” You look down, and Natasha is getting guilty by the second, but she doesn’t want you to get a cough or get your back hurt.

“You really don’t want me to at least sleep next to you, do you? ”You chew your bottom lips and play with the comforter while nervously waiting for her response, but that didn’t come; the room became silent once again, and the agonizing silence is enough for you to know what her possible answer is.

But when Natasha was going to answer you, one of the pups started to cry, so you quickly took your pillow, left the comfort of Natasha’s makeshift bed on the floor, and went to tend to the needs of your pups.

“You should go back to sleep; I’ll deal with them,” you said to her. You took him in your arms and lulled him to sleep. You're thankful that he cried because you didn’t know how to get out of that situation, but Natasha didn't. She wants to cradle you in her arms and tell you that she craves your cuddles and touch, but when she notices the distance in your voice and presence, her shoulders slump, and she just lays down to try to get at least a little bit of sleep.

Natasha woke up earlier than you or the pups, and because she didn’t want to wake you up, she neatly folded the comforters and placed them on the couch with the pillow you gave her. She then quietly left the room, going to her room to do her morning routine before going down to take breakfast and go to the gym.

You, on the other hand, are already awake when she’s halfway through folding the comforter, but you pretend to be asleep to escape the embarrassment that’s lingering in yourself, maybe hoping that she at least gives you a forehead kiss or the pups, but that didn’t come, making you sad and disappointed first thing in the morning, so you just sadly smile at yourself while admiring the face of your daughter that’s starting to stir awake, so you scoop her in your arm with the biggest smile you could pull off.

“Hi! Good morning, my little princess. How was your sleep? Was it good? Hmm? ”She coos and giggles a little, pulling a genuine smile out of you and making you happy to see her out of a life-and-death situation, but soon the two boys start to wake up, so your morning turns pretty quickly from sad and disappointed to happy and grateful to wake up another day with your pups.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanova #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #black widow #black widow 2021 #marvel black widow #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha x you #natalia romanova #alpha natasha #omega reader #omegaverse #mcu marvel avengers #marvel mcu #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #avengers

[alcoholfreenayeon]

Bittersweet

Reader x Nayeon

CW: Hint of fluff, Angst, Mention of death

Word count: 1000

Synopsis: We all have positive and negative memories, of people, events, everything that we have been through for as long as we can remember. Yet the human mind is deceitful, it alters our memories, willingly at times and sometimes unwillingly. And the human heart is selfish, it makes sure to never forget how it felt like to be loved yet hides the anguish that is felt upon heartbreak. Combining the altered memories and feelings, it makes us yearn for what once was, it makes us hear what was never said, it makes us see what isn’t there, to speak what we never could and most importantly, it makes us feel what we once felt. Until that actually happens, and then we do not like what hear, we do not like what we see and absolutely loathe what we have to feel.    

You got back home, tired, heading straight to the bedroom. You quickly change and go to your bed, leaning against the bed’s headrest, scrolling through your phone like you do every day before going to sleep. That’s when you see her slowly poke her head into the room to see if you are there and upon seeing you, she smiles slowly, she smiles longingly.

“Hi, you are back already?”, Nayeon says approaching you, stopping at the edge of the bed.

You have mixed feelings and mixed feelings about feeling that way as well. Things were never supposed to go this way, especially when everything was going so well. Swallowing your airs bitterly, you look at her and nod with a small bitter smile, “Yeah, like every other day. You would know if you came to visit everyday instead of whenever you felt bored”, you regret your words as soon as they leave your mouth, even more so when you see the flash of pain on her face for a moment before she tried to hide it.

“That’s not fair. You know I’m trying my best, less for myself and more for you”, she replies with a sting in her voice as she avoids looking at you in eye.

You already knew that, but you still wanted to hear it from her, every time, to convince yourself that it wasn’t you but her, despite knowing that was extremely selfish of you. You take a shaky breath and look at her sadly, “I…I’m sorry…I just-”.

She huffs, half amused, “You know you don’t have to be, it’s not your fault. Besides what’s done is done.”

“I hate it when you say that”, you say, folding your arms and looking miserable.    

Nayeon snickers and sits down next to you, putting her hand on top of yours. You freeze for a moment, panic rising in your chest and the feeling of anguish spreading all over your body and you shift a little bit unintentionally. Nayeon looks at you, surprised and hurt by your reaction, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”, she starts, withdrawing her hand but you interrupt her.

“No, it’s ok, I was just surprised, I didn’t expect….”, you trail off and try to nudge her gently with your shoulder but since you shifted there was too much distance between the two of you, so you missed but your action made your intention clear. She nods solemnly, feeling a bit relieved as she stares at her legs.

You hated it, you hated this so much. This rift between you and Nayeon causing what once felt like the most loving and warm touch of hers to now feel like a cold and distant one. You sink lower, turning to your side to face her, looking up at her for a moment, feeling a bit relieved that at least she still looks at you like she did before. Shutting your eyes and sighing heavily, trying to focus on falling asleep.

Nayeon smiled a small sad smile as she looked at you, just staying by your side, wanting to be close to you. The two of you stayed that way for a few minutes before she realized you had already fallen asleep. She sighs and smiles, touching your cheek gently, her heart aching, knowing it was probably time for her to leave.

As her hands leave your cheek, you mumble, “please…don’t go,”.

She freezes, pain, she feels so much pain, even more so when she sees that you said it in your sleep. She could practically feel her tears welling up, but she knew she couldn’t stay, she wanted to, she really did, more than anything else. But that was the cruelty of love, she knew that her staying would cause you more pain even if you wouldn’t admit it, she could see it in your eyes. Breathing shakily, she thought to herself that maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t be bad to be selfish. Just this once, she tries to convince herself.

Hours later, you wake up groggily and lie still for a few minutes, rubbing your eyes and sitting up before you recall last night and look around for Nayeon. She isn’t there, you sigh and softly shake your head and fall back down. You didn’t expect her to stay but it still hurt. You didn’t get to tell her goodbye…again. And you don’t know when you will see her next, tomorrow? in 6 months? if at all. You are distracted when you see your phone buzz, glancing it at you see it’s just a notification from your calendar. You didn’t need a reminder for today though, you could never forget this day. The day that changed your life forever, the day that made you feel like you lost it all, and in your heart, you did, lose it all. The memory so fresh in your mind, it may as well have happened seconds ago. You sigh and pick your phone up, staring at the notification, “Nayeon’s Death Anniversary”.

#angst april #nayeon angst #nayeon x reader #nayeon fluff #twice nayeon #im nayeon #ask me anything #twice #kpop gg #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #reader x idol #twice scenarios #twice angst

[wonillaa]

mistranslation (?)

ni-ki x reader

summary; you ask your friend who has been secretly crushing on you to help you with learning japanese, he attempts to make you believe he’s taught you the word bro when it actually means love. he fails.

warnings; smd joke.. that’s all

genre; fluff

note; hi i don’t know japanese so if i’m wrong on the meaning or misusing the word ai please let me know 😭 also for my ✨ anon!!!! thank you for requesting <3

to niki, no one else compared to you. as soon as he got your text, "hey, can you help with my japanese?" he canceled on sunghoon and told him he has better plans now.

"jay canceled on me too, is there something going on that i'm not invited to?" sunghoon raised his eyebrow at niki, questioning him. "there's no plans, i'm just hanging out with a friend" his mouth goes dry. "yeah ok..." sunghoon scoffs out a laugh and heads back to his room.

when you showed up at their front door he had to swallow his heart that was climbing up his throat. "hey yn, come in" he smiles and steps to the side. "hey. look at all this," you hold up your worksheets, "i hope it's fine, i'll buy you dinner" he shook his head. he’d never mind if it was you "that’s fine, can’t say no to free dinner."

an hour into the worksheets and niki started to get bored. listen. he's thought about the fact you wanted to learn his first language a million times, and he's overanalyzed your reasons over and over again. in the middle of practice he'll think about how you ask so sweetly about new words and phrases and it makes him want to lay down and cry, so he's decided he's no longer thinking about it.

"ok...next," he clears his throat, "how do you say let's go do something more fun" you scoff and look at him. "what's more fun than this..? now teach me how to say suck my dick” he fake gasps and turns to you. “like i’d give you the power of knowing that, absolutely not”

another sheet later and now he’s really bored, and if you’re joking around he will too. he does feel a little bad, but what you don't know won't hurt you…he thinks. before he can prank you into calling him pretty whenever you see him, “how do i say bro?” you ask. he’s never been the best at poker face, his smile dropping immediately, frowning like a sad puppy. “it’s ai.” he lies before he can even think about it. he thinks it over and comes to terms with telling a small lie won’t hurt. but his cheeks feel like they’re on fire as you say “ok then ai, let’s watch a movie or something, my brain hurts.” he doesn’t notice your mischievous smile as you put your worksheets away. “yeah, sure.”

your legs occupy his lap as you’re both invested into the movie you’ve decided on, guardians of the galaxy 2. you’ve both seen it plenty of times together, so you think it’s fine to break the news now. “hey niki” you whisper. his eyes don’t leave the screen. “ai?” he whips his head towards you with an open mouth. you raise your eyebrows, “uh…yeah?” his voice cracks a little. “do you think i’m stupid” “what? anyways. rocket’s on the screen now lets chat another time”

you sigh and rethink everything. is he serious? he’s the one who started this, why is he basically telling you to back off? “i know what bro is, idiot” you frown and pull your legs back in to curl under your blanket. “oh.” … “yeah oh. why are you messing with me” “why didn’t you tell me you knew i was messing with you” he throws back, trying his best to not laugh out of discomfort. or cry. “whatever, i’m telling you i know now,” you frown, “tell me what ai means. are you making me say something weird?” “you’ll have to pry the meaning out of my cold dead mouth ai”

you decide to let it go and pay attention to the movie. until your mind won’t shut off and you remember you can just look up the translation. you lower your phones brightness and quickly look up google translate, typing the word in. the word love loads onto your screen and your eyes shoot up to the boy across from you.

“riki are you in love with me” his eyes shut and his mouth opens in disbelief. “what?” “i know you are! why else would you try tricking me into calling you love?” you laugh and kick his leg. “it was just a little goofy joke- don’t even look at me. and stop laughing!” he groans and covers his face with a pillow. “don’t get embarrassed now…i feel the same about you anyway.”

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #enhypen reactions #enha fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen niki #enhypen scenarios #enha reactions #enha fanfic #enha scenarios #enha niki #ni ki #niki x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha oneshots #enhypen oneshots #enhypen drabbles #enha drabbles

[captain039]

PART 9 The lords servant

Astarion x reader

Warnings: plus size reader, light swearing, vampire things, sexual, first times, eventual smut, harassment, angst, slowburnn

Previous part <-

You awoke hearing a small whimper beside you. You frowned remembering where you were, you glanced to your lord, blanket clutched in his hand just above his waist. He was twitching, eyes scrunched up, you tilted your head slightly you thought elves didn’t sleep let alone dream. Maybe his thoughts clouded his whole mind, his face was frightened and you got worried as he began to mumbled no’s, you gently shook him calling his name. He shot up, his hand on your throat, holding it tightly. You gasped holding his wrist trying to breathe. He looked around before his eyes fell on you, he let go of you quickly eyed scared.

“I’m so sorry- gods-“ he said frantic as he put his feet to the ground, head in his hand as he shook lightly. You got full sight of the scars on his back, some unknown language to you. You gulped a bit trying to process. Your hands went to his shoulders as you shuffled, legs going by his side, you wrapped your arms around his waist resting your hands on his chest, one hand over his heart. You rested your cheek on his back feeling him breathe heavily. His trembled stopped as his hand held yours over his heart.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked voice quiet.

“I’m alright” you said and he scoffed lightly making you tense lightly.

“I almost strangled you” he spat and you sagged a little lifting your head.

“You were having a nightmare” you said he he huffed annoyed.

“Astarion” you said feeling him tense.

“What happened?” You asked as he looked back to you the best he could.

“My master, Cazador” he spat his name and you nodded.

“He had you” his voice went quiet filled with vulnerability.

“Drained you of your blood in front of me slowly, made sure to cut up every part of your beautiful body, once you-“ his breath hitched as you gave him a soft squeeze.

“Died, he turned you, you weren’t you, it was worth than death” he said and you listened to the sob he let out. You felt tears in your own eyes as you held him tightly, the gods were cruel with their torment on his soul.

“I’m ok, I’m here” you tried to comfort.

“You’ll never be safe, not with me” he forced those walls up again and you bit back tears.

“Astarion” you whispered sadly as he pulled away from your embrace, shut off fully now as you sagged and tugged the blanket around your naked body as he got dressed and left. You left to your own room to cry in your bed before you exhausted yourself and passed out. When you awoke again you debated about going to his office. You didn’t, you headed out into the city letting Daenan know before hand. You went to the library, searching about vampires, the myths and legends, trying to look for the name Cazador amongst the history. You learnt about the masters and spawns, what powers the masters had over their spawns, they were slaves to every command they had no control, how did your lord escape?

You were there for hours reading and looking before you saw the name Cazador. Cazador Szarr his name was a well known supposed dead lord outside Baldurs gate, he had a large estate, nobody knows of a successors or extended family, nobody knows if he was truely dead.

“Interesting book?” You suddenly heard looking up seeing a woman. You frowned slightly at her too perfect smile.

“Just looking into some history” you shrugged her off hoping she’d get the hint.

“They say he’s not actually dead” she sat down not taking the hint.

“Lord Szarr?” You asked and she nodded her grin unsettling.

“They say he’s eternal, been around for century’s” she said making you frown, who was she?

“Maybe” you shrugged closing the book.

“Oh come now, just having a friendly chat” she smirked.

“I’m due for lunch” you lied standing up.

“How is the little star?” She asked and you frowned, little star?

“I don’t know what you mean” you said and she laughed.

“I smell him all over you” she took a deep breath through her nose and sighed loudly eyes flashing gold making you jolt a bit.

“Our little elf didn’t even get his adult name” she pouted and you froze.

“Astarion you idiot” she rolled her eyes.

“Your so called lord, honestly his hiding is horrible” she huffed and you felt anger and fear rise as she checked her nails.

“You think his lord let him go?” She chuckled.

“He was let go” she said darkly an evil smirk on her face.

“He’s due for the reckoning best say your goodbye’s” she added before she disappeared in front of your eyes. Your heart jumped and you ran right back to your lords mansions, heart pounding, mind racing. You went to the library quickly looking over books about elfs and their language, you found one putting his name together, it meant little star, he hadn’t hit proper adult hood in elf sense, never got his adult name. You sagged falling into the chair, his life was stolen from him, his master let him go and was obviously watching and now he knew who you were, that woman too, who was she? His masters pet? Dark consort?

You jumped when your name was called sharply seeing your lord furious.

“Before you yell, please just listen-“ you said his eyes bright red.

“I told Daenan where I went, I went to the library, but there’s something else” you said hands shaking.

“Cazador” he said and you frowned slightly.

“I’m the prodigal son being summoned to return for his ascendant” your lord scoffed words laced with venom.

“I had a visitor” he growled.

“I did too” you said voice shaky and his eyes went wide.

“Who?” He asked quickly.

“A woman I don’t know-“ you said panicking.

“She said there was to be a reckoning, to say my goodbyes” you said body trembling.

“You best say them” he said and you froze snapping your eyes to him.

“No don’t give me that look, you’ll get killed!” He growled as your eyes stung with tears.

“I won’t leave you! You told me to stay here!” You fought and his jaw tensed.

“That was before I was in disgusting bliss” he spat and it was your turn to growl in frustration.

“My lord- with all disrespect, fuck you!” You yelled and he froze at your outburst as your chest heaved.

“You gave me my first everything! Made me feel things I’ve never felt! And I dare say you felt something new!” You tried to control your emotions as tears rolled down your face.

“Fuck your master and his little spy’s and consorts!” You yelled seeing Daenan peer in the room slightly before you glared and he ran off.

“Don’t you get it?!” You snapped at your lord as he stayed silent.

“I love you!” You cried body shaking with emotions as you began to wipe your eyes. You felt hands grab your waist and lips press to yours. You went to fight him, fists giving a weak punch against his chest as he kissed you passionately.

“I’m sorry” he whispered breathlessly as you shook your head and cried.

“I love you too” he muttered and you looked to him with shock. He gave a weak smile and you saw tears in his own eyes.

“Hells” he muttered blinking his eyes as you smiled cupping his cheek and wiping the stray tear.

“I love you too” he repeated a real smile on his face as he closed his eyes and leant into you.

“Good” you chuckled softly pulling his head down softly to rest your heads together.

“I’m not going anywhere” you whispered.

Next part ->

Taglist:

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@curlycarley

@sleepy-time-dreamy

@violet-19999

@hexqueensupreme

@perseny

@queenofangrymoths

@aeryntheofficial

@scarlettwitcher

@brainz00

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@mheerdraws

@innergardentoadpony

@vivian318

@queenies1x1

@yaimlight

@otayz

#astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 #x reader #Cazador #vampires

[webslingingslasher]

this is frat!peter i’m crying

https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cvm-mBPp8Jd/?igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

NO STOPPP WHY DO I WANNA WRITE THIS:::

ok so u see this trend right, and yeah, you’re gonna test the fuck out of peter so for the first time ever (since that one scare) you’re excited for your period. the second you get it- ITS TIME TO FUCK W HIM

you played it up all afternoon saying how you feel yucky because of cramps and your head hurts and he’s all ‘my baby :( come cuddle’ after a few hours you roll away for the bathroom and wait a few minutes and very timidly open the door.

‘petey?’

‘trouble?’

you stay silent- he looks up and sees you staring at your socks. you look ashamed.

‘what’s wrong?’

you nibble on your lip, ‘im on my period’

‘i’m aware, feeling extra crampy? wanna shower sex it up?’

-you almost toss the plan to the side. almost-

you shake your head, ‘something bad happened’

peter’s first thought was a leak, he throws his blankets back and looks over the sheets.

‘no, you’re all clear.’

‘um, i was trying to change my tampon.’

‘gross.’

‘and…. i can’t.’

peter catches on, he slowly rises from bed and throws a shirt on.

‘no biggie, text me what kind you use. i’ll go grab em.’

he’s too kind. you stop him.

‘no!’

your ‘panic’ stops him.

‘why, you want pads?’

‘no, i …’ you mumble the words, it makes him step closer, he pulls at your hand.

‘what’s that, mumbles?’

you look up to see his reaction, ‘it’s… stuck in me.’

his eyes flash down to your pajama shorts.

‘what’s stuck in you?’

‘my tampon.’

peter’s eyes shoot back down.

‘how… how does that happen? i don’t… what do you mean stuck?’

‘like- i can’t reach it. it’s up there.’

peter acts like he’s pulling a rope above him.

‘isn’t there like… one of these.’

you shake your head, ‘i mean it, peter. way up there.’ you look away when you ask, ‘will you help?’

peter stares at your crotch. ‘like… you want me to go fishing in there?’

‘i can’t reach it!’

‘i…’ he wants to say how gross it is, but he’d be joking and you seem embarrassed to even ask. plus, it’s not like you have anyone else to ask. he knows that area in and out, if anyone could do it quickly it’d be him.

your face falls when he walks away, you thought he’d be down for it. it’s just a joke but now you know he wouldn’t actually do it, it makes you feel hurt.

it’s like he can sense your upset.

‘i’m not leaving you, im getting the towel.’

the towel.

may got him a set of dark red towels to match with his frat, and one night when peter seemed a little desperate, you shut him down with a sorry pout.

‘shark week. trust me, with these cramps, it kills me to say no.’

it insulted peter you think that’d stop him. he hadn’t had period sex before that but he can imagine it’s the same just a little wetter, and he assumes you’d be extremely sensitive so…

he brings a red towel out and raises his eyebrows.

‘i’m down if you’re down.’

and since then, it’s the towel. it stays in the closet until it’s needed, then you wash it and return in.

a smile breaks over your face, he’s jumping into action.

‘no! you don’t have to! i was just testing you.’

peter’s closet door slowly shuts, ‘so, no stuck tampon?’

‘no, i just wanted to see if you would do it.’

‘oh. well, should i put the towel away?’

you step out from the bathroom doorway to look at him, you share a glance that says the same thing. peter tosses the towel to the bed while you answer.

‘no.’

#peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #frat!peter

[kentosbabes]

Thoughts on Nanami slowly becoming aware of his raging crush for fellow sorcerer? The reader isn't oblivious tho, they are well aware of different ways he speaks and acts around them as opposed to everyone else at work, but it doesn't click for Nanami until he catches on to readers flirtations and the way they treat him differently from rest of other sorcerers they work with. Thats when he sits and looks at his and her actions side by side and realizes that it isn't a friendly care for a co-worker, man is in love and luckily for him reader thinks he is cute as a button.

OMG I LOVE THIS SOOO MUCH.

You think he’s avoiding you. You’ve been close to him for years now, not one proper argument between the two of you, but this? Much worse than just a silly little argument. You realised you liked him a year or two ago, it was after a curse almost killed him and you realised how much you truly liked him and the bone deep fear of losing him.

“-irl, girl? Hello, anyone home?” Gojo nudged you to get your attention, you apologised and started to pay attention to his rambling about what’s for lunch. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be be here, it’s supposed to be your day off.” You tried not to feel a little hurt at his tone and infliction but it was hard.

“I came into do some paperwork that I had left last minute, why?” This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate how much you actually like it. You just want his attention, it doesn’t matter how much or how, just the fact that he’s given it to you.

He’s acting weird to you, normally when he comes in he puts a cup of joe on your desk with a note telling you to have a good day. But today? He walked right past you without your usual chat and mutual distain for leaving late. You send a small smile to him that drops when you realise he’s not looking at you. Did he finally find out? Did he put two and two together and figure out that you like him? Maybe that’s why, you reasoned. Maybe he just doesn’t like you back and was just being really friendly to you.

“I’m heading to the field with Gojo, there’s a level two curse and then I’ll head home,” you tell no one in particular, and take your bag. Walking out, Gojo stops and tells you he’s feeling under the weather, you nod and tell him that it’s fine you can handle it. “No you can’t, I feel bad enough as it is, Nanami go with her and drop her home.”

He rolls his eyes and you start to head out with him. Keeping a distance from him than usual, walking at a snails pace till you reach a short cut in an alleyway. He finally has enough and turns around to you, “What’s your problem? You’re acting different” You look at him upset, “I’m acting different? What about you? You’ve been ignoring me all week and now you want to talk it out?”

He suddenly darts his eyes to your eyes then lips and then back up to your eyes.

You look up at him through your eyelashes and huff, “Well, of course I like you, I’ve liked you since last year. I’ve been waiting for you to get my flirtations? Do you see me buying coffee for anyone else? Being as nice as I am to anyone else? You’re so silly, I’ve like you for as long as I started being assigned to tasks with you.”

Your phone starts to ring, it’s Gojo so you put it on speaker, “Hey girlieee, the curse has moved locations and Megumi sorted it out so you can go home straight. Is everything ok with loverboy? You know I-“

You quickly interrupt him and tell him he’s on speaker and that you need to go- hanging up on him. “So…”

“Loverboy?” “Oh shut up”

“Gladly,” leaning in to kiss you, your lips meeting in a tender, hesitant kiss- a delicate collision of emotions. With a gentle smile against your plush lips, he reached out, his hand hovering just inches away from your cheek. Your fingers combed through his blonde hair, twisting and tugging at it, deepening the kiss. Nanami nipped at your lower lip and drank in the soft moan you made in response. Kissing you harder and with more urgency, but pulling away to put his forehead on yours, “I like you. I like you back. I just think you should hear it properly if you’ve been wait on me for that long”

You roll your eyes, “It’s ok if you’re a little clueless, you’re my clueless boy now. “

#kentosbabes #jjk headcanons #kento nanami #nanami headcanons #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #nanami imagine #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami fluff #nanami x you #nanami drabbles #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader

[filthyjoetini]

Stumblin' In

a/n: Part 2! Enjoy! Likes, reblogs and feedback are always welcome. The usual thank you goes out to @barfightzanddiscolightz for taking her time to beta read and edit and giving input &lt;3

warnings: none

wordcount: 2.6k

part 1 - part 3 - part 4

Part 2

Just as you had finally made yourself somewhat comfortable in the unforgiving embrace of the hospital bed, your bladder made itself known once again. Groaning, you pressed the call button for the fifth time in the past three hours. How much can one person piss? Stupid I.V. drip, you thought to yourself.

-

When they had first wheeled you into the emergency room, you were quickly surrounded by a flurry of nurses and a doctor. They had palpated your neck and spine as well as the back of your head and damn, did it hurt like a bitch. Because of your reaction to the examination and to be on the safe side, the doctor had ordered an x-ray of your neck, spine, and ribs.

You had immediately been pushed out of the emergency room, down a very long and bright corridor and into the x-ray room. In the x-ray room, you had bravely endured the examination, even squeezing your eyes shut, despite the x-ray technician telling you that nothing would happen. Your inner child, however, was hoping for at least one laser beam. Later, you blamed the concussion for your strange behaviour.

Back at the ER, the doctor had checked your results and fortunately found nothing more than a big bump and that your obvious concussion could be diagnosed. Additionally, they had confirmed what the paramedics had already told you: you would have to stay in the hospital for at least a 24-hour observation, and the worst part of it all was that you were not allowed to eat. So, they had put you on a drip, which fed you all the nutrients and medication directly into your bloodstream. The actual procedure turned out to be a mammoth task. It had taken them several tries to find a vein, and when they finally did, they had managed to pop one, turning your arm all bruised and blue. It looked like someone had twisted your arm.

-

“Hi. Do you need to go to the toilet again?”, the nurse asked with a smile, as she stepped into the room.

You nodded and pushed yourself up a little. Immediately, the nurse was at your side, tutting you.

“Dear, I’ve told you not to overexert yourself. I’m here to help you with that. Come on, take my arm.”

You grabbed her arm, and she pulled you into a standing position before taking the IV pole in her other hand and slowly leading you to the small adjacent bathroom.

Once the nurse had brought you back to your bed, you decided to scroll through TikTok, which you got bored with rather quickly. You thought about calling your best friend and your dad again but decided against it. Firstly, because they had both been alerted by the lady at the desk after she had entered you in the system, that you had been admitted to the hospital. You had insisted on giving her both names and phone numbers as emergency contacts and so they had both been waiting for you in your room as soon as ER had transferred you. Secondly, because it was already nearing midnight, and you were sure that they both would be asleep by now.

Before you closed your contact list, you saw it again. The short three-letter name that had only been on the list for a few hours: Joe.

Gingerly, you tapped on the name and a new iMessage chat opened.

Hey...

The three dots immediately appeared, and you almost threw your phone at the wall opposite your bed.

Hi there. How are you?

Blushing, you began typing your reply, your fingers gliding thoughtlessly over your phone’s touchscreen.

I’m fine, all things considered. I have to stay for a 24-hour observation, and I’m not allowed to eat solid food. They have me on a drip, which makes me piss like a horse...

Oh wow. Sorry to hear that 😉

Oh no! Oh fuck. Totally TMI.

Sorry! That was TMI!

Haha. No worries.

Chewing on your lips, you started typing again. You had one burning question to ask him.

OK. Cool. Um. Also. HOW THE HECK DID YOU PUT YOUR NUMBER INTO MY PHONE? DID YOU HACK IT?

Hahaha...do you seriously think I could hack a phone?

Yes?! I mean, it could be your job for all I know!

Hahaha. It’s far from what I do for a living.

Your phone was unlocked. I believe you turned off your auto-lock-thingy or whatever...

You quickly opened your settings, and he was absolutely right, you had it turned off. Snorting, you reopened the chat.

Wow there, IT-God, you were right.

IT-God...good one, Humpty Dumpty.

Stop calling me that!

What else am I supposed to call you. I don’t know your name. You’re Humpty Dumpty in my phone now.

Omg...noooo.

What’s your name, Bambi on ice?

Another one? Is he serious?, you thought with a groan but, quickly let him know your name.

Alright, changed it. See! *attachment*

Smiling at the visual confirmation, you let out a small yawn. Your eyes suddenly became very heavy.

I’m going to get some shut eye, I’m really tired.

Totally understandable. You had a rough day.

Bye Joe x

Bye...sleep tight. Keep me updated. x

---

You woke up from what you considered was the worst night’s sleep you had ever had. If it wasn’t the weird position you were forced to sleep in waking you, it was when a nurse would come check on you from time to time or help you when you needed to use the loo for the gazillionth time.

You were relieved when morning finally came. The first thing the nurse did, was to take you off the I.V. That meant no more peeing every 30 minutes. Thank fuck. She even brought you a small, stomach-friendly breakfast and informed you that the doctor would come by to discharge you soon.

Less than an hour later, the pleasant doctor handed you the discharge form as well as a prescription to take to the hospital pharmacy. You hadn’t shown any unusual symptoms which meant that your brain was working as intended. Therefore, the doctor decided that you could leave the hospital early.

Quickly, you informed your best friend and your dad about the good news, and they both asked you if they should come and pick you up. You told them they didn’t need to; you could find your way home just fine. Your dad, in his usual dad-manner, replied with a thumbs-up emoji whilst your best friend sent you the side-eye one. You knew exactly what she meant with it. Girl, if you fall again, I’ll kick your arse.

You chuckled and exited the message feed when another one caught your eye. It was the one you had started with Joe yesterday. His last message taunted you. He had asked you to keep him updated. So, you did.

Hey Joe!

Hey Tumbleina!

Stop it!

I’m being discharged early!

That’s great news! When?

You hurriedly checked your form. It said that you needed to pick up your medication from the in-house pharmacy and that it would be ready for pick-up at 12:45pm, which was in an hour from now.

I’m still waiting for my medication to be ready for collection which won’t be until 12:45...so, I think around 1-ish?

Cool! 👍

Yeah, I’m glad. Can’t wait to crawl into my bed.

I bet. Hospital beds are the worst.

Tell me about it.

Anyway, I thought I’d let you know. Because you were so adamant about it.

Thank you, very considerate of you to keep me, your saviour, in the loop.

You laughed out loud at his reply and responded with a series of laughing emojis before putting your phone down on the bed.

Too hastily, you changed out of your hospital gown and into your clothes. Your dad had brought you an overnight bag with comfortable clothes when he had come to visit you yesterday. However, the quick movement was too much for your bruised body and you hissed in pain. Slow down, you scolded yourself and continued to get ready at a slower pace.

You packed your few belongings into your duffle bag, cautiously slung it over your shoulder, and quickly glanced back to make sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When you arrived in the lobby, the receptionist asked you to wait in the waiting area until your name was called. Nodding, you sauntered over to the nearest available seat and ungraciously plopped down onto it. You retrieved your phone from your joggers to kill some time. You read the news and played some word-based online games.

You were just about to solve a rather tricky one when your name was suddenly called. Letting out a sigh that you hadn’t really intend to let out, you got up and trudged over to the chemist’s counter. The old lady behind it handed you a small plastic bag with your medication. It was ibuprofen and some sort of gel that you were supposed to rub on your neck and back. How you were supposed to do that yourself was beyond you. You quietly thanked the old lady who gave you a dismissive nod in return.

Slowly, you turned around and walked away from the counter towards the hospital’s exit. You were just checking your next tube connections on your phone when you heard someone clear their throat. Looking up, you saw a man standing by the litter bin, tapping his cigarette into the bin’s built-in ashtray. Why was this man trying to get your attention?

You squinted at him and all he did was stare back at you, with big brown chocolate button eyes. You let out a loud gasp.

“Joe?”

“Hey there, Bambi. Good to see you up and about.”, he chuckled, as he took the last drag of his cigarette.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, you asked in complete bewilderment, entirely ignoring his nickname for you and taking quick steps towards him.

Putting out his cigarette, he let out another chuckle.

“Well, I thought I could take you home...you know, make sure you don’t stumble over your own feet and fall again.”

“What makes you think I don’t have a ride home?”, you inquired, your hand now on your hip and his smile instantly began to falter.

“Oh shit! I didn’t think of that! Do you?”

“Nah.”, you giggled and he visibly relaxed, but his cheeks already held a red, embarrassed tint. “My dad and bestie asked me if they could come pick me up, but I declined.”, you continued. “It’s only a couple stops on the tube.”

“A few stops too many, if you ask me.”, Joe concluded, back on his confidence-track. He took a few steps towards you and held out his arms to you. “Let me accompany you home.”

“Fiiiine.”, you groaned, rolling your eyes and eventually linking your arm with his. “You’re insufferable.”

---

Your 20-minute ride home was the most eventful tube journey you had ever had. Joe made sure you held on to every railing, and if there wasn’t one available, his arm. He fussed over you like an overprotective boyfriend, which made your cheeks flush a little. No, you gotta stop thinking like that. He’s just helping!, you reminded yourself, shaking your head to get rid of those intrusive thoughts.

Still arm in arm with Joe, you exited the tube station closest to your block of flats and led the way down the street towards it.

“This is me.”, you announced, suddenly shy as you began to slow down your pace. Joe smiled down at you and let go of your arm.

“Nice house.”, he looked up at it. It was anything but nice. It was one of those ugly buildings straight out of the seventies and most of its residents had lived there since the beginning.

“Ah...it’s nothing. Most of my neighbours are elderly people. I basically live in a retirement home.”, you chuckled lowly, and Joe’s grin grew wider.

“Could be worse.”, Joe determined. “You could have a funeral parlour on the ground level.”

You gave him a puzzled, questioning look.

“Not that I have a funeral parlour in the building I live in.”, Joe clarified, giggling softly. “I just think that’s worse than living with the elderly.”

“You’re very strange, Joe.”, you snorted, shaking your head again.

“I’ve been told that before.”, he smiled broadly and shoved his hands into his trouser pockets.

“Hmmm...”, you hummed, glancing quickly at him. His eyes were fixed on your face, and you quickly averted your gaze.

“Uhm...thank you.”, you started, blushing once more. “For helping me yesterday and bringing me home just now. I really don’t know how I could make it up to you.”

“Hmmm...”, he copied you. Wanker. Then his face lit up like a thousand suns. “You know what? You could make it up to me by going on a date with me.”

Snorting, you threw your head back in laughter and rolled your eyes at him. When you looked at him again you saw him looking at you with anticipation. His big puppy eyes on full display. Fuck.

“Aaaalright. I’ll go on a date with you.”, you relented. How could you not? He could ask anything of you with those fucking adorable eyes.

“Brilliant!”, he replied, grinning from ear to ear, pulling you into his arms. Stunned, you wrapped your arms around him as well. He smelled just like he had yesterday: so damn good. Who needs air when you could live off his smell?

When he, too soon for your liking, pulled back a little, he winked at you and said: “I’ll let you know when and where.”

Gently, he let go of you completely and you nodded in agreement, head still too wrapped up in his scent to give him a vocal response.

“Shall I help you upstairs or are you good?”

“Huh?...”, you questioned, not quite hearing what he had said but since his thumb was pointing at your door you assumed you knew what was asking.

“Oh...uhm. I’m good. Thanks though.”, you smiled and slowly stepped towards the entrance of the house.

“Perfect.”, Joe said with a nod and slowly took a few steps back. “I’ll text you.”

“Yeah, alright. Let me know, when you get home.”, you requested without thinking, whilst rummaging through your duffle bag. Then you saw it, his trench coat. Before he could respond to your demand, you gasped and shouted:

“Joe! Wait!”

“Huh?”, he questioned, swiftly turning around and walking back to where you were.

“Your coat!”, you clarified, pulling it out of the duffle bag. Luckily, for once, it wasn’t accompanied by its other contents which would have spilled out all over the floor any other day.

Joe looked at you, confusion evident on his face but then he saw you pull out the familiar fabric and he suddenly remembered.

“Oh right! I gave it to you.”, he chuckled, and you carefully placed the coat in his outstretched hands, “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”, you dismissed him with a polite smile, “you asked for it back and I gave it back.”

Your pathetic attempt at indifference didn’t go unnoticed and it made him grin from ear to ear. Then he skilfully threw the coat over his shoulder and took the three steps down the stairs backwards, eyes locked with yours

You put your key in the lock and opened the door, bashful eyes on his now slowly retreating figure.

“Joe…let me know when you’re home, yeah?”, you repeated your request, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Will do. Bye, Bambi.”, he returned, almost shouting as he waved at you.

“Bye Joe.”, you called back, louder than him, rolling your eyes at his repeated use of the new nickname he had given you. Giggling, because to be honest, you thought the name was very cute, you entered your house and gently closed the door behind you.

---

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @eddiebaemunson @littledemon-lilith @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @plk-18 @miserybeans @kylakins88 @deadspellz @thehillzhaveeyez @kayleeelena97 @foreverjosephquinn @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @eriancrow @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface @alessxaa

crossed out = couldn't tag

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #rpf fanfiction #rpf fic #rpf #stumblin’ in

[sentientgolfball]

Hello! Sorry to do this on anon 😅 I had a fic request!! I’ve been going through a really really rough time recently and all I’ve been needing is a Mountain/GN!Reader/Rain comfort fic with a reader with chronic pain 🥺 I appreciate you reading and, no matter what, thank you for your time!!

aw I am very sorry to hear that :(( I hope this can make you feel just a lil bit better <3

Enjoy some soft Mountain and Rain

My requests are open !

You crack open your eyes and immediately know what kind of day it’s going to be. You can feel the chill of the room on your face. You can hear the rain pouring down outside. You can feel the deep ache of your joints and you haven’t even moved yet. You thought maybe if you just laid in bed a little bit longer then the pain would go away, that you were just sore from sleeping in a weird position. When the pain persists you completely flipped your thinking, maybe you actually needed to get up and stretch. Yea that was definitely it. You sit up and quickly realize that was a mistake. It feels like there are a million tiny shards of glass trying to worm their way into your brain. 

You clutch your head and groan, screwing your eyes shut at the pain. You lay back down and bury your head under the pillows. You breathe deeply through your nose waiting for the pain to dull down. While you wait you do the only thing you can. You get upset. At everything. You curse the summer for dying away into autumn. You hate the feeling of the cold seeping deep within your body. You hate the rain for deciding to come now that the warm weather is over. You curse your body for reacting this way. You hate that you can’t enjoy the changing of the season because with every change in temperature comes days like these. Days where it’s too hard for you to move, to think, to just be able to function. 

A sharp throb pulses through your whole body and you whine realizing you definitely weren’t going to be able to work today. You blindly reach for your phone, not even bothering to remove your head from the pillows. You look at the screen when you grab it and it hurts. You quickly text the head librarian your situation and throw your phone back on your nightstand not even bothering to wait for a response. The longer you looked at the screen the more sick you felt. 

You laid like that for hours. You didn’t have the energy to even attempt to get up and do anything that might help with the ache. There were a couple times you tried to move when the ache seemed to die down, but doing so only made it flare right back up. So you stayed there with your head buried under pillows barely able to think. And then you heard your phone buzz. You ignored it the first time, but then it kept going off. You were starting to get annoyed at the noise. You reached up and grabbed it with the intent to put it on do not disturb. That was until you saw who was blowing up your phone. It was Rain. 

Did you stay up too late lol you weren’t here to greet me

Decided to skip work? Can’t blame you it’s nice outside

Are you alive?

…No seriously I’m worried are you ok? 

You wanted to reply but just as you tapped on the messages your head exploded in a thumping ache. You cursed and threw your phone day willing to settle just long enough to type a coherent sentence back to the water ghoul. You crack your eyes open when you feel your phone buzz again. 

I’m on my way. 

You slump back down and groan. You hated making him worry. You hated making any of the Siblings or ghouls worry. You wanted so badly to be able to just push all the pain away and get through your day with a smile. But the logical side of you screamed and begged to let them help you, let them worry and care for you. 

That side ended up winning when you heard a soft knock at your door. You mumbled a half hearted ‘come in’ and hissed when the light were turned on. 

“Shit sorry.” You heard Rain say before the lights were flicked off once more. 

You hear him walk over before the mattress dips with his added weight. You feel his hand start to rub firm but soothing circles into your back.

“Bad day?” 

“You have no idea.” 

“Have you eaten?”

You shake your head

“Drank?” 

You shake your head 

“Moved at all?” 

You shake your head 

He sighs and there's a moment of silence as he pulls out his phone and quickly types something. When he’s done he sits it on the nightstand next to yours before standing. He carefully removes the pillow from your head and peels the blankets off of you. He gently hooks his arms under you and picks you up with ease holding you close to him. He carries you to the bathroom and puts you down on the edge of the tub. He makes sure you're stable enough before pulling away and gently placing a kiss on your forehead. 

He quickly lights a few non-scented candles before gathering various soaps and other care products. He begins to fill the tub adding a few cups of bath salts to the water. You can already feel the heat coming off the water as Rain crouches in front of you. He slowly brings his hands to the bottom of your shirt and waits for your permission. You run a hand through his hair and nod. He smiles affectionately at you as he carefully undresses you and then himself. 

He dips into the tub first, settling back against the tile before gently pulling you in with him. You sigh heavily, feeling the hot water envelop you as you lean against Rain’s chest. You sit heavily against him putting all your weight on him as he begins to slowly massage your shoulders, working his way down your arms. You feel his tail squeeze around one of your legs and the pressure feels amazing. 

After a while of just sitting there, letting the water cradle you as Rain works his hands over every joint, he eventually scoops some water to pour over your hair. He gently runs his claws against your scalp when he’s satisfied before grabbing your favorite shampoo and lathering it into your hair. You hum in gratitude as he works his hands through, being sure to rub some gentle circles against your temples. When he’s finished he once again scoops some water into his hands to rinse the soap out. 

As he’s doing this you hear a knock on the bathroom door. 

“Right on time.” Rain says repositioning you so he can hop out of the bath. 

You watch bleary eyed as he wraps a towel around his waist and cracks open the door. He whispers something you can’t make out and nods his head with a slight smile. When he turns around after closing the door he has some clothes. One bundle is lounge wear you’ve seen the water ghoul wear hundreds of times, but the other is a massive sweatshirt and an extra pair of Rain’s sweatpants. Rain sets them down on the counter before walking over to the bath and hoisting you up. 

“Mountains waiting for us” he whispers and presses a kiss to your cheek “he brought something special for you.” 

You allow Rain to dry you off before you get dressed in the clothes brought for you. Moutain’s sweater and Rain’s sweatpants. When you’re ready he takes your hand and walks with you back to your bedroom. You’re greeted to the sight of Mounatin sitting on your bed smiling softly. There’s a tray on your nightstand with three mugs, steam rolling off of them. You can smell the herbaceous scent from where you stand. You notice there’s an added blanket on your bed and you nearly cry when you realize it’s heated. 

You practically slump against the earth ghoul who carefully pulls you against him as he leans back and against the headboard. He pulls the blanket over you as Rain hands you and Mountain your respective mugs. He takes his own before walking around to the other side of the bed to get under the covers. He slides in right next to Mountain who pulls him closer to you two, wrapping a massive arm around his shoulders. 

You take a sip of the tea and practically moan at the taste. Mountain chuckles and takes a sip from his own mug. 

“Like it? It’s a new blend I’m testing. Rain said it helped him so I thought you’d want some.” 

“It’s perfect Mounty.” You hum taking another long drink. 

When you finish Mountain takes the empty mug from you and lays off to the side. He holds you close to him letting the pressure of his arms wrap around you. The combination of the tea, the heated blanket, and two ghouls happily purring away make your eyes feel heavy. 

“Tired?” Rain says snuggling in closer, giving you a few soft kisses before nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. 

You nod, pulling Mountain’s arm tighter around you, resting your head on his chest. He kisses the top of your head. 

“Go to sleep, wildflower. Rain and I will stay as long as you need us.” 

You and mutter an incoherent form of ‘thank you’ before closing your eyes. The two ghouls laugh and twine their tails together, resting them on top of you. 

“Sleep well.”

“We’ll be right here whenever you need us.” 

#the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghouls #i hope you like it anon <3 #rain x reader #mountain ghoul #mountain x reader #nameless ghoul x reader #rain ghoul #golfball writes

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Mission Migraine

Prompt: “I…I really don’t feel well.” “Hold my hand, please?” (From Sombre Sapphics blog prompts)

Pairings: Wanda x R || R x Nat (platonic)

Word count: 1.1K

Summary: You get a migraine on the way home from mission

TW: vomiting, migraine,

A/n haha whats this I actually posted? Insane. Btw requests are still open so …. Go write my somthing :)

Wanda had noticed you seemed off at breakfast but when she had pulled you aside you had waved her off insisting you were ok. Of course she hadn’t had another chance after the team was pulled into into a meeting with fury and given a mission.

Wanda hadn’t seen you much over the past few hours as the mission came to a close. Some hydra base. It went smoothly and the team was now sat on the jet for the long flight home.

Thor was at Asgard and Clint was driving the jet. Nat was patching up a cut on her arm and Steve was starting his mission report. Sam was annoying Clint and Bucky was fast asleep in his chair. Wanda was sat beside nat and patted the spot next to her indicating you should sit. She was growing more concerned as you stood looking out the windows swaying slightly on your feet. You had felt the migraine coming since the early hours of the morning but there was nothing you could do about it. The pain was budding behind your eyes and you resisted the urge to rub your temples. Refusing to show weakness in front of the whole team. Sure they were family but you were an avenger. Avengers don’t cry over headaches.

“Honey please sit down.” Wanda said softly

You looked at Wanda and wordlessly sat beside her resting you head on her shoulder. She placed a hand on your knee.

“What’s wrong honey?” She asked softly

“I…I really don’t feel well.” You muttered and Nat raised an eyebrow not looking up as she began bandaging the wound but still listening and concerned for you.

“what hurts my love? Are you injured?” She asked trying to stay calm. It wasn’t like you to admit feeling bad this early on with little prompting.

“Just feel bad.”

“Where baby? Where do you feel bad?”

“My head.” You said nuzzling into the side of her neck and inhaling her perfume. Your eyes were shut as you buried your face into her skin.

“Why does your head hurt baby? Did you hit it while you were fighting?” Wanda was concerned now and getting worse at hiding it.

Nat reached out and patted Wanda’s knee. “Its ok wands she’ll be alright. Let me know if you need anything.” She said before going back to her arm.

“Migraine.” You said and Wanda heaved a sigh of relief. Knowing it was something she could deal with.

“Aww bubs” she cooed. “What can I do for you?”

“Hold my hand, please?” You said softly

“Honey we’re engaged i can do more than hold your hand.” She said pulling your head into her lap softly. Wrapping her arms around your shoulder. Nat stood and guided your legs up onto the bench so you were laid down now in Wanda’s lap properly. Nat disappeared for a second before draping a blanket over your shoulders and tucking it under you into a little cocoon.

“Thanks” Wanda said as you had your eyes shut not full comprehending as you began to fall asleep.

“Don’t mention it Wanda. If you need anything else I’m happy to help. I love you two.”

She smiled before sitting beside Wanda again and picking up her book.

You slept for a half hour before the pain your head woke you and you realised how nauseous you felt. You sat quickly almost falling off the bench. Wanda made a noise of surprise and nat looked u noticing you pallor and rushing to put a bin under your chin as you heaved. Wanda cooed sweet nothings in your ear as she rubbed your back and nat held back your hair and held the bin for you despite both of your shaky hands holding onto it for dear life.

The team was silent as you were sick. Knowing you need them to make no fuss. When you finished you shakily pushed the bin away as it made you feel worse. Nat nodded at Wanda and went to clean the bin.

“I’ve got this wands.” Nat said gesturing to the bin she was still holding and Wanda thanked her.

You whined and laid against Wanda wiping the back of your hand over your mouth.

“Sorry.” You said.

“Oh baby don’t apologise you couldn’t help it. How does your head feel now.” She said softly.

“Like its being drilled apart.” You said and tears began to shine in your eyes at the pain.

Nat returned and offered you the meds she had found in the first aid kit. You took them wordlessly as Wanda guided the glass of water to your lips.

“Slow sips my love.” She said before pulling the glass away.

Nat took her spot beside Wanda again and pulled out her book to give you some privacy.

“We’ll be home soon love close your eyes.” Wanda said brushing your hair out of your eyes and running her nails over your scalp. She laid a wet cloth over your eyes and you hummed in content.

“Sleep now my love I’m here. Its ok.” She hushed as you drifted off.

The next time you woke up you were in your bed. Wanda against the headboard beside you as you rested on her thigh and nat sat in a chair by the bed ready to help Wanda if she needed it. Both girls were reading and Wanda was absent-mindedly rubbing circles on your thigh. You groaned slightly and Wanda used her hand to get her magic to lower the lights.

“Thanks” you mumbled and nat went to get more pain medicine. You didn’t know how long it had been but the pain was slightly better.

“How do you feel baby?” She asked and you hummed.

“Better but still not good.” You admitted

“Here.” Nat said offering a glass of water and packet of pain meds to Wanda who took them and helped guide you upright and into her side to help you stay up. You closed your eyes and took the med, eyes still shut as you tired to block everything out.

“Go back to sleep baby. You should be more comfortable here. I used my magic to put you in comfy clothes.” And you realised you weren’t in your tight suit anymore but a soft pair of fluffy sweat and an oversized hoodie that Wanda owned. You hummed and Wanda guided you back into the pillows where you rolled back into her side and snuggled up to her. Slowly you fell asleep again and Wanda and nat went back to their books.

“She’ll be ok Wanda, she always is.” Nat said and Wanda nodded as they fell back into a comfortable silence broken only by your soft snores.

MASTERLIST

#marvel #the avengers #wanda maximoff #wandanat #natasha romanov #sicfic #natasha romaoff #wanda marvel #wandanat x reader #wandanat comfort #platonic Natasha #migraine #wanda x r #wanda mcu #wanda x you #wanda sick #sick r #rick reader #hurt / comfort #comfort fic #avengers #whump #no angst #soft wanda #soft natasha romanoff #avengers mission #r has a migraine #headache #fan fic #marvel comfort

[peekaboo-icyou]

I am here to deliver another prompt for mafia wilbur

Mafia!Wilbur who has shut everyone out of his life and refuses to let anyone in. That is, until the reader either gets kidnapped by the mafia or is a new recruit and she is just really timid and kinda scared of everyone especially wilbur and he doesn’t know why but he hates the idea of her being scared of him so he tries to open up to her and stuff and they fall in loveeeeee ooohohhh

THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION ❤️❤️❤️

Fear

Ever since Wilbur hired you as his personal assistant and secretary he’s noticed your strange behavior you listen to everything he says and make sure everything is perfect but he can hear the nervousness in your voice every time you talk to him, he thinks it may be the coldness in his voice or his cold gaze he has almost shut everyone of his life but ever since he first laid eyes on you he’s become a little softer every day he thinks your adorable, the nervous way you act around him, how you look at him, how you call him sir or mr.soot but the only thing he hates is how you look so terrified of him every time you hear him yell or start to look angry or him just speaking in general.

Today his heart shattered when you had seen him kill and torture a whole group of people he felt horrible he didn’t even see you walk into the room all he saw when he looked behind him and there was a terrified girl that looked frozen in fear and was about to cry “hey hey shhh it’s ok” he rushes towards you and bends down and looks into your eyes “they were bad people everything will be okay” he hugs and comforts you as you visibly about to faint I mean you were sweating and shaking, he carefully carries you upstairs and sits you on the couch “there you go, love” he holds your hands and helps you breathe “breathe with me love, in…out….in….out” after you calm down he decides that maybe now would be a good time to ask why you are so terrified of everyone “so love can I ask you a question?” You look at him still scared and nod “why are you so scared of everyone I mean you don’t do anything wrong so why would you be scared?” You look at him “b-but what if I do actually do something wrong and mess up I-I don’t know what you or anyone else is capable of a-an-and” you start crying “hey hey love it’s alright I understand what you mean but no one will hurt you unless you were a threat and trust me you don’t look like a threat” you sniffle “really?” He smiles softly “really, in fact your the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen a-and I’ve had like a school boy crush on you ever since you walked into my office and I was actually planning to ask you out tomorrow” (he actually wasn’t he could never he’s to scared of rejection) now your face is super red “whys your face so red” he looks at you confused “y-you just confessed” he turns into a tomato “I-I did?” You nod “I-uh just forget that umm it’s getting late you can stay the night if you would like” you nod

and ever since then you both have been together almost everyday doing stuff besides work, such as going to fancy restaurants or the movies or cute little picnics, hes been very cautious about being in public with you so he has tons of security that are secretly hidden around so they don’t interrupt your private time and after a few months you move in with him because he’s worried something will happen to you.

“Oh darling I’m so glad you decided to move in with me” he hugs you tight “I did?” He smiles “remember the other night when you were a little tipsy I asked you if you loved me enough to move in with me and you said yes” you giggle “that doesn’t count” “well to late the movers are already bringing your stuff” he kisses you and puts his hands on your hips “oh I love you so much baby…” you giggle “I love you too” he puts his head in you neck and whispers in your ear “I can’t wait to marry you and fill you with my kids” you gasp and playfully punch him and push him away “WIL!” He chuckles “I’m just joking darling well half joking” he spins you around “so how many?” After a few months of you living together he finally proposed, youd been dating for a year and a half then. It was a romantic night, a full moon, and a picnic in a flower field. TBC

I ran out of space I’ll try to make part 2 as fast as I can lol

#wilbur x reader #wilbur x y/n #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur x reader fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt wilbur #mafia au #wilbur mcyt

[xiaoscarasimp]

Cat Boi Scara 2

You arrive home from the store with a plethora of bags in tow. As you open the door, you’re greeted by your moody cat boy, Scaramouche. It was hard to tell what type of mood he was in today but he sniffs the bags and notices that the majority of the smells are different types of fish. 

“Oh, what type of trash fish are you trying to feed me today?” Scaramouche sneers. He rumages through the bags and finds that there are whole red snappers, yellow snappers, Spanish mackerel and rainbow trout. He clicks his tongue and mutters something along the lines of “you can't expect me to eat these as is. There’s guts and scales on these things.” 

“Scara,” you exasperatedly say. “Look, the filets are actually expensive but the price of the whole fish is cheaper. You want that higher class fish don’t you? Well, I want to try and get you some good fish without breaking the bank.” 

“One more thing, Y/N: what’s that smell on you?” Scaramouche wrinkles his nose. He knew exactly what it was-it was the smell of another cat boy. “Have you been unfaithful? Am I not your one and only cat boy?” He almost screams. 

“Look, there was a cat boy helping me pick out different types of fish for you,” you say, arms crossed. “He was super touchy-feely but seemed to have no ill intent. Think his name tag said something like Tartar Sauce or Tortelini, I don’t know, I’m bad with names. Here, come here, give me a hug.” You invite him for a hug, but Scaramouche had other ideas. He hugged you, but then headbutted you. He didn’t headbutt you hard, but hard enough for you to give him a stern look. Scaramouche responded by sticking his tongue out and flipped you off.

“Ok, Scaramouche, please go sit on the couch while I fillet these fish; I don’t want you to get hurt by the knives or somehow pricked by the snapper venomous fins.” You politely asked.

“Why the ever living fuck are we eating something venomous? You picked shitty fish again didn’t you?” He scowled. 

“Actually, I didn’t thank you very much. Now sit down, shut up, and let me concentrate.” You go over to one of the cabinets and grab your food safe gloves, and the knife kit that had a variety of different size and shape knives along with a honing rod and a newly acquired fish scaler. You also go grab a huge cutting board so you’re not cutting up the countertops. 

You fill the bottom of the sink with cold water, pick the fish up by the tail, and then wash the fish and start descaling it against the grain under the cold water; this was to try to reduce the amount of scales that got on the floor. After that, you put on gloves and the chainmail glove and you bring the fish to the cutting board and slice open the stomach just below the pectoral fins with one of the medium sized boning knives; this was something that no matter how many times you’ve done this you could never get used to. You scoop out the guts and throw them in the trash, and needless to say they had a bit of a stench to them. You could tell that Scaramouche was wrinkling  his nose at the smell; you couldn’t blame him. 

You change your gloves and put the chainmail glove back on and use one of the bigger knives to cut the fish’s head off slightly below the gills, however, while holding the fish down with your right hand, you end up pricking yourself on the dorsal fin. The chainmail glove was slice proof, it wasn’t stab proof. Your finger started turning red and swelling a little bit where it pricked you and you went “ouch” under your breath; it was also starting to sting but you pressed on. Scaramouche walked over to where you were working, looking concerned and even a bit smug. 

“See? I warned you that this was a trash fish,” he smugly stated with a small bit of concern in his purple eyes. His ears flicked nervously as he eyed your finger, which made your face become flushed; he was pretty cute when he was concerned about you. 

Problem was is that he was not a good cat boy: he started trying to take the fish off the cutting board and throw it in the trash. How dare something hurt his owner and friend? No amount of food was worth hurting you. 

“Scaramouche Balladeer the Sixth!!” You almost scream. He wasn’t the sixth of anything: you just wanted his full name to sound like he was from a long line of royalty. Scaramouche acted the part of a royal brat so it made the joke even better. “You better not throw that away! That was a lot of money and I’m trying to make you a good dinner. What if you get pricked as well? Dumb ass.”

Too late. He had pricked his finger on the fin, and fate would have it that his finger was swelling a bit more than yours. You quickly tell him to drop the fish on the cutting board and to wash his hands. You run to the medicine cabinet and grab antibiotic ointment and a bandaid and bandage it up, finishing off the process with a small kiss on his finger. 

“Pain, pain, go away,”  you chuckle softly and Scaramouche scoffed; he wasn’t a kitten anymore and he wonders why you treat him as such some days. You ruffle his ear and get back to breaking down the fish with Scaramouche staring intently to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself again. 

You line the knife up along the spine through the stomach at the head end with one of the medium sized knives and cut along the spine in one swift motion so the fillet looks smoothe all the way around. You then flip the fish over carefully and repeat the same process on the other side. Luckily this time, you didn’t prick yourself, and Scaramouche looked satisfied with you progress. You then take a smaller knife and cut out the ribs of the fillet and get the little pieces of spine out of the fish so your precious Scaramouche doesn't choke on it. 

‘

After throwing all the remains of the fish away, you smoothe the meat down so it can be uniform and then start painting on some melted butter seasoned with some herbs and garlic, along with sprinkling some pepper on the fillet. You added some lemon zest to finish off the seasoning process and turned the oven to 425 degrees fahrenheit. Scaramouche was trying to act like the fish was below his standards, but in actuality, you could see his mouth drooling at the sight of it. 

“Wait, y/n,” Scaramouche says as you spray down the baking pan with cooking spray. “ Why don’t you take the skin off? You expect me to eat that? Gross.”

You sigh and tell him that while your knife skills are good, they’re not that good. “Also, the skin falls most of the way off when you cook it. What ever doesn’t come off won’t harm you, actually, I hear it’s good for your skin and hair.” 

Scaramouche scoffed again. “I already have such perfect hair and skin. No amount of trash fish is gonna make that better.” You sigh as you begin prepping the sides for tonight's dinner. You loved doing green beans in the airfryer, covered in oil and garlic, along with some rice. After you get the sides started, you put the fish in the over for 15 minutes. 

While dinner is cooking, you ask Scaramouche to grab some plates and silverware to place on the table. He, of course, protested a bit but you gave him a stern glare that said “if you don’t you won’t eat or sleep with me tonight.” Scaramouche gulped and reluctantly helped you out. 

You regret spoiling him so much as a kitten, but it was so hard to say no to those purple eyes at first. They held so much innocence and wonder that you felt bad for asking him to lift a finger to help you. As time went on, however, he became an absolute terror. He would sass you, bring you the wrong ingredients on purpose and forget trying to take him anywhere; he’d cause problems in public too. How did such a cute boy become such a pain in the ass? 

After dinner was done cooking, you plate everything and sit down at the table. “Thanks for the food.” Even though you were the one who cooked the food, you still gave thanks. Scaramouche stayed silent and you give him a stern look. “T-thanks for the food,” he grumbles. “I still don’t get why you make me do this every time we sit down to have a meal. Kinda stupid if you ask me.”

“Look here,” you say between bites. “Just humor me please." 

You two eat in silence again tonight; it's rather hard to make conversation with an emotionally constipated cat boy who never leaves the house and only watches reality shows all day. You've tried asking him about the shows he watches and he just read off the description from Google search and then told you that if you cared, you'd search it up yourself. 

After dinner, you clean up and call him over to the couch. A random thought popped in your head: what if you got Scaramouche a cat boy friend to spend his days with? Maybe that look of boredom plaguing those purple eyes would fade. 

"Hey, Scara," you say, doubting yourself. " What would you say about making a friend?" 

His eyes go wide with a mixture of jealousy, rage, and a possible hint of hurt. Scaramouche swallow the lump forming in his throat and responds with "Why the ever living fuck would I want a friend? Are you just trying to pawn me off on someone because you're done with me?" 

You pause, never considering that he would take it as abandonment. "No, I still treasure you very much, but I was thinking about you having another cat boy or girl to interact with while I'm at work. I wouldn't abandon you;you're too precious to me to do that." 

"Can I choose my friend?"

"You can help choose but I get the final say," you reassure him. "Now, let's get to bed; in exhausted and need sleep." You ruffle his head.

"And by sleep, you mean playing video games for 2 hours until you pass out." He teases.

"....guilty as charged. Did you want to play games with me? I have all types," you laugh.

"How bout no? I find it more enjoyable sitting on your lap and watching you play," He winks. For a cat boy, he sure did know how to be suave. Wonder where he learned that from? You wonder. Sure as hell wasn't you.

You groan because even though he told you he had no interest in playing, he sure loved to tell you everything you did wrong in game from building characters wrong to not using what was considered meta to even criticizing your mechanics. To make matters worse, he loved sitting on your lap to block your screen and getting pouty when you didn't give him the correct type of attention when he wanted it. 

Cat boys were just so fickle.

"OK fine but no back seating," you chide playfully. 

"When have I ever done that?" He tries to play innocent. "I'm just a cat boy, I don’t know how to play video games." 

"That's a lie and you know it."

After about two hours of playing video games with Scaramouche in your lap, you drink some water and crawl into bed. Scaramouche climbs into bed with you, snuggling up to you, ears and tail twitching happily. You stroke his head as you both are falling asleep; petting Scaramouche was the best, free form of therapy you could ask for, even if he was a bit of a twat waffle.

His spot, in his eyes, was right next to you, (even though he would deny it until the day he couldn't anymore) and if anyone tried to take that away from him, he'd show them who was on top. 

~~~~~~~~~

Please note: OP is left handed so oops

Things you expected from Scara fanfic: Kitty Scara

Things you didnt expect from Scara Fanfic: how to fillet a whole damn fish

Im thinking bout doing a NSFW spin off but not sure.

#genshin impact #scaramouche #genshin impact scaramouche #cat boy #cat boi #fanfic #genshin #genshin x reader #scara and reader #wanderer #scarameow

[wolfiemcwolferson]

I’m in my feels about Charles’ having a Seb helmet and also in my Maxiel feels because of a conversation with a friend so here is a thing.

Maxiel: The Helmet

Most of Daniel’s friends aren’t here and that’s ok. There’s a party waiting for him in 6 different countries and he plans on hitting them all like some kind of fan service retirement thing so no one worries too much.

But he’s looking forward to Christmas - where he plans on turning off his phone and forgetting about everyone and everything.

He’s currently staring at the Lance DTS meme that another acquaintance has sent him because they think it’s funny. “You love the sport but it just don’t love ya back.” Sure, Danny had made that joke himself, but he was allowed to do that. It hurt coming from other people.

There was no F1 fanfare for him either - the sport he bled for, the one that kept him from his family for two years, the one he’s missed birthdays and funerals and weddings and time for.

Of course, Seb was getting a proper fucking send-off. Daniel was getting a reserve seat and he knew he’d never see the inside of a car at lights out again unless something bad happened, and no matter what, he couldn’t wish that on anyone - not any of these guys.

It’s Charles’ helmet that breaks him though. The helmet for Seb. You love the sport and sometimes it just don’t love ya back.

And the worst part is he had told them all not to do anything. He was a reserve driver. He’d still be around. Don’t worry about making a big deal about it, I’ll be back.

He didn’t expect anyone to actually take him seriously…he expected something.

Danny is tired now, counting the hours until he can bolt. Ready to drink a bottle of wine on a flight and not have Michael glare at him passive aggressively.

Danny’s helmet isn’t special - the same design he’s had all season - because he didn’t want to remember this. But maybe he did and maybe he’s bitter and maybe he doesn’t deserve a full time seat ever and -

He’s tugged sideways suddenly and he nearly loses his balance but then Max is righting him with that gentle smile on his face that he gets for people he actually considers friends. Danny hadn’t seen it this week after everything, but there it is.

“Hiya, Maxy. What’s up?”

Max beams and whispers, “come with me.” And then he’s waving at people in the RBR garage as they walk past them and towards Max’s driver room.

Daniel feels like he should leave. Even if he has a contract with these guys that technically starts in two days - he’s in McLaren Orange and he sticks out, but Max doesn’t let go and they keep walking.

“I, of course, did not change anything. It is still gold, and my lion is the same as always, but -“ Max pulls Daniel through the door of his driver’s room and slams it shut behind him. Daniel has flashbacks of - well, not the time for that.

“Max, what?” Daniel asks, confused and a little tired.

“I know it is not your last race ever, but it felt important to me,” Max is still rambling - quick and nervous like he does when he’s unsure if he did something wrong, and then he picks up his helmet, the gold one with two stars on the back. “You will have a seat in 24, but I wanted to -“

Max turns the helmet around and taps on the place underneath the two gold stars. The number 3.

Max put a - a 3 on his helmet for Daniel.

For Daniel’s last race.

“I know things have been hard for us, since-“ Max waves a hand between them, and it’s met to encompass everything between them. “But you are still one of my best friends and you helped make me the driver I am today and -“

He shrugs and Daniel pulls the helmet from his hands with shaky fingers, placing it back down on the table.

“Thank you,” Daniel says, before he hugs Max, winding his arms around his waist and squeezing him close. “Thank you.”

Max puts his chin directly on top of Daniel’s head somehow and says, “Yes, well you are important to me. And I am glad you are coming home.”

Daniel squeezes Max tighter. Maybe he was right. Maybe he was coming home in more than one way.

#tiredtiredsharl #maxiel #max verstappen #mv33 #dr3 #daniel ricciardo #I am in my feelings #leave me here to die

[thestruidora]

Sweetheart

Supernatural Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Yandere, Borderline Personality Disorder, Stalker, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Angst, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Hurt/Comfort, Therapy, Miscommunication, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink

Category: F/M

Pairings: Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary: Dean has borderline personality disorder and the reader is his favorite person.

Author’s notes: Yes, I'm still alive. You go on and pay that bet now.

Chapter Two

Two of Cups

“The Two of Cups is about two people working together. It reflects an energy of mutual feeling and support, and reminds you that there is love in your life, whether you see it or not.”

“Alright, I’m heading out!” He announced, right after attaching the leash to Thor’s collar, already moving towards the front door of the house.

“Wait, hold on.” Lisa’s voice sounded from the kitchen, stopping Dean in his tracks. He let out a sigh, feeling impatient.

The brunette walked into the foyer, visibly surprised by the sight in front of her. Her fiancee had left for work early that morning, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead and a soft pat on the head. By the time he came back home, she was barely able to greet him as he moved into the bathroom, took a quick shower, and changed clothes. Now, without so much as a word, he was about to leave once more, one hand on their family dog’s leash and the other holding his keychain.

“Babe, you’re gonna take Thor for a walk? You just got home.” She looked at the clock on the wall, 2 p.m., he didn’t usually return home at this hour. “You left work early?” It sounded like a question. It wasn’t.

“Yeah, there was a problem down at the plant, one of the guys got hurt and we had to shut everything down so…” He explained, body still turned halfway towards the door.

“Oh, is he going to be ok?” Lisa asked, not a hint of true concern on her face.

“Probably gonna need a couple stitches, it wasn’t that bad. But you know, with all the safety measures and everything, we had to stop for the day.” He said, smoothly, without any uncertainty, looking her in the eye. Dean had always been a good liar. “So when I got home I just thought I might go on a little walk with Thor, get it out of the way for the day.”

They both glanced down at the dog, sitting there with his tongue out and his tail sweeping the floor, clearly excited by the idea of going out for a stroll. There was a certain tension in the air when they looked back up at each other, the way Lisa’s eyebrows formed into a subtle frown giving it away. Dean put his keys in his pocket and tapped on the fabric of his jeans, almost itching to move. He just wanted to be able to go already. A silence fell in between them for a long couple of seconds, but it felt longer than that. When he couldn't handle it anymore, he broke it.

“Anyway, I’ll be back in a little bit, ok?” It sounded like a question. It wasn’t.

His body turned all the way towards the door, hand reaching for the knob.

“Maybe it was, actually.” He completely stopped moving when he heard her say it, craning his neck to see her, an unpleasant expression staring back at him.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“Maybe it actually was that bad, the accident your colleague had today, you just didn’t take the time to notice.” She replied, matter-of-factly, voice calm and even. Dean easily understood the underlining meaning of her words and she knew. She knew that he was aware of her unhappiness and she of his, but neither of them did anything, just patiently waiting for the other to make a move. The fact that she knew that broke her heart and it made her eyes burn, it made her want to scream. “Have a good walk with Thor, babe.” She said instead.

All he could do in return was give her a quick nod and a tight smile before finally opening the door and exiting the house, Thor following close behind.

Dean wished he had it in him to spend the short path to the dog park thinking about Lisa and their lives together. Think about how he used to love watching her sleep and now the minute his head hits the pillow at night he turns his back to her. About how he used to enjoy their long talks during breakfast and dinner and now he dreads the mealtimes they do share, because he sure avoids them when he can help it. About the way her touch doesn’t quite fit anymore and the way her voice hits his ears with a grating tone that he could swear wasn’t there before.

Did he change or was it her? Did they both simply fall out of love?

Because he can tell by the way she looks at him sometimes, when she thinks he’s not paying attention. It’s like she hates him. Resents him somehow. He never did ask why and probably never will, but he doesn't need to, there’s no point. He knows why.

He’s never going to be the perfect husband and father she wants him to be. He’s never going to stop waking up in the middle of the night because of the nightmares. He’s never going to not feel guilty for being with her, choosing her, instead of being out there searching for a way to bring his brother back.

He tries though, he really does.

Sure, there’s a gun perpetually under his pillow, holy water under the bed, and a silver blade in the top drawer of the nightstand. But that’s just the bedroom. Imagine if she knew what he keeps in the garage. But she doesn't wanna know, doesn’t want to think about it. So he doesn’t tell her and she doesn’t ask. Isn’t that a good compromise?

He has virtually erased his whole past life to be with her, started out brand-spanking new. He gave up on hunting, completely. But every guy needs a hobby. So he’s been going out to the dog park a few more times than usual in the past few weeks, so what? What’s wrong with that? He likes the fresh air and the sound of the kids laughing, even the barks are kind of nice. It’s overall a very wholesome environment. Then there’s Y/N. The beautiful, charming, and captivating lady that he gets to see every time he’s there.

Did he ever even mention having met you to Lisa? Mention you at all? No, but there’s nothing wrong with that. Absolutely nothing. He’s sure that Lisa has friends that she has never spoken about to him either. And that’s fine. That’s healthy.

Because that is what Y/N is to him, a friend. Since the day they got acquainted a few weeks prior they have continued to meet at noon, sometimes a little early, sometimes a little later, whenever you would make clear you would be walking your friend’s dog as a favor while they’re on a trip. You’re kind like that, considerate. Easy to talk to, a good listener. Dean really enjoys your company and he thinks the sentiment is reciprocated.

And that’s what he thinks about the whole way over, you, he wishes he didn’t but he did and will quite certainly do again in the days that’ll follow because he’s not going to stop coming to the park if it means he gets to see you.

It’s just that being near you feels so right, simple . And sometimes it’s hard to not, you know, compare.

“Hi, Dean!” He hears Y/N’s voice and it washes all other thoughts away. You’re there, sitting on the usual bench, sun beaming down on you. You have that pretty smile on your lips while you watch him approach. “And hello to you too, Thor.” You say to the German Shepherd that completely ignores you in favor of jumping on Loki, he and the Husky immediately falling into an enthusiastic match of play-fighting, clearly happy to see each other.

“Hey.” Dean kneels down to remove the leash from Thor’s collar, looking up at you in your sitting position, stealing the quickest glance at your thighs, skin exposed in your summer dress. “How are you?”

��I’m good, a little tired from work. You?” He starts wrapping the leash in his hand, moving to sit next to you, just close enough that your knees touch, but you don’t seem to notice, or maybe you just don’t mind.

“I’m okay, actually a little tired from being at home instead of work.” The words just flow out of his mouth before he can filter them, which is so not like him.

At least it's not when he's with anyone else.

“Want to talk about it?” He knows you’d listen, really listen, without judgment. But he doesn’t feel like unpacking whatever is happening between him and Lisa, he would rather be here in this moment, with you.

“You just said you’re tired from work but here you are trying to listen to my problems.” He brushes it off, changing the subject, and this time he can tell you did notice, but doesn’t mind.

“Well, what can I say? You can take a girl out of the therapist’s office but you can’t take the therapist out of the girl.” You said, nonchalantly. There was a beat of silence before you both started to laugh.

“Did you just make that up?” Dean smiled, leaning towards you.

“Yep.” You nodded, dimples appearing.

“Cause you made it sound like it was a saying.” He teased.

“Yeah, but it’s definitely not.” You admit, and he appreciates the way you don’t take yourself too seriously. “There’s not a lot of sayings about psychologists, you know.”

“My family has one: don’t go to them.” He replies, still smiling.

“Really? No one in your family has ever seen a therapist?” Y/N sounds a little shocked, which makes him want to laugh again, thinking about what you’d say if you only knew the half of it.

“No, we were raised with that midwestern, salt of the earth, just rub some dirt on it kind of attitude.” He said it like it was no big deal, but it was clear that you didn’t think the same way by your response.

“Dean, talking to someone about your thoughts and feelings is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. It can be… Very healing.”

“Well, ‘course you think that, it’s your job.” Dean’s comeback came quickly.

It wasn’t that he hated therapists or was against them or anything, he just didn’t think it was for him. He couldn't trust some random stranger with the ins and outs of his life, plus he knew it just wouldn't work for him, the whole ‘healing’ thing. He was too far gone for that.

He remembered being a little taken aback when you mentioned your job, didn’t like the idea of talking to someone who’s constantly psychoanalyzing him, except he never felt that you had done that. Quite the opposite, you hadn’t ever compelled him to open up any more than what he was comfortable with. Problem is, he’s always comfortable talking to you. You’re so easy to be near and it feels as if there’s never any judgment being passed.

So his first impression of your career was quickly shattered, but that hasn’t stopped him from picturing you from time to time, sitting behind a desk with your legs crossed and a pointed look, a thin-framed pair of glasses resting low on the bridge of your nose while you jot something down in your little notepad. Maybe he got that visual from porn, but it’s not like he has much else to reference from.

“I’m not saying you should be my patient, that wouldn't even be ethical, we’re friends.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he feels a pang in his chest.

He did think of you as a friend in his own head, but to hear you say it out loud burst some sort of unstated bubble that had formed between the two of you.

He had never spoken about Lisa to you, had only mentioned Ben a couple of times in passing and you never pressed him on for more. Did you know he had a family and was practically married? Was it obvious? And even if he didn’t would you care? Would you see him as anything more than a ‘friend’ if he wasn’t already in a relationship or that thought hadn’t even crossed your mind?

Did you find him attractive at all? Most girls do, are you different?

And if you ever made a move, if you ever touched more than the top of his hand or the side of his shoulder in that completely oblivious way, if you ever made it known to him that you had an interest; what would he do? Did you know? Does he? Because he can’t even decide for himself. Would he give up on everything he has now to be with you?

“What are you thinking about?” Your index finger tapped the middle of his forehead in a playful motion and he came back from his pondering, watching you swiftly remove your hand from his personal space as if it had never been there.

“Huh?” It was all he could say, trying to swim out of the stream of hypotheses that had been racing in his brain.

“You were very deep in thought, were you considering getting a therapist perchance?” You smiled like you already knew what he’d say.

“Oh, hell no.” He was quick to answer, shaking his head and regaining his focus.

“Cause you think psychology is a bunch of bullshit?”

“No, I used to think that.”

“Oh, you used to think that? But now you changed your mind?” You smiled openly, and it felt like the two of you had known each other for years, falling into a lighthearted banter just like that.

“Well, you wouldn't waste so much time of your life dedicating yourself to bullshit, you’re too smart for that.” Now it was his turn to state something as if it was obvious.

“Thanks.” You laughed then, taking the compliment. “But listen, I really should get going, I have to go meet with my landlord, again.”

“Seriously? I just got here.” Dean said with feigned annoyance, not wanting you to know that he was, in fact, annoyed at your departure.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to talk to him, he’s gotta fix my apartment’s heating, I’ve been asking him to for weeks and he comes over, messes with it for a little bit, and then the second he leaves it gets cold again.” Dean’s brows furrowed in confusion at your words.

“Cold? We’re in the middle of June.”

“I know! It’s the craziest thing, I’ll be walking around and all of the sudden it gets freezing cold, like, I can see my own breath.” You explained, miming an invisible fog out of your lips with your hands.

“That is weird.” Dean said slowly, processing what he was being told.

The Winchester’s thoughts were going a thousand miles per minute. It couldn't be what he was thinking, it would be too much of a coincidence. What were the chances that the girl he had met only a couple of weeks prior was being haunted? What if that was the reason he had met her in the first place? To save her.

“And does it usually happen at a certain time of the day or just whenever?” A wave of realization washed over your features as he asked, as though you had just remembered something important.

“It’s funny you said that, it actually does only happen at night and only when I’m alone.” Your response made a shiver run down his spine. “My sister came over the other day and it was totally fine, but then when it’s just me it happens again, it’s like my heater is possessed or something.” You had no clue how on the mark you were with that one.

“No way.”

Dean had quit hunting, he was out. He promised his brother that much, he promised Lisa. But there you were, right in front of him, clearly in dire need of his help. He just couldn't let anything happen to you, not on his watch. It wouldn't be right.

“And I haven’t even mentioned the rodent situation.” You called Loki over from where he and Thor were playing in the grass a little further away from the bench the two of you had been sitting in. The big dog came over in an instant, his other furry friend literally on his tail.

“You have a rodent situation as well?” He was so invested now.

“Oh, yeah, I’m a very lucky gal, Dean.” Your hands made quick work of putting the leash back on Loki’s collar, preparing to leave.

“How do you know you have it? Have you seen them?” Dean reached for your arm to stop you from getting up, a quiet desperation brewing underneath the surface, but you, silly you, didn’t pay enough attention to realize.

“No, but they’re all up in my walls, I can hear them scratching at night and I’m deadly afraid of mice so it’s just awful.” He was looking you right in the eyes as you said it, examining every inch of your innocent face, suddenly very aware of your vulnerability. You were just so frail, so fragile.

“I can imagine.” His voice was low, he didn’t want to let go of your arm.

There was a ghost in your apartment and you were in imminent danger. He had to do something, find an inconspicuous way to work the case. Wait, ‘work the case’? But… he was out, he was done hunting, he left the family business behind, and he built a new life for himself. Yeah, that’s right, he was done. He should just call in a favor from Bobby and get that ghost out of your house, that’s all. He didn’t need to be the one to do it and that would be better for the both of you. That would be healthy.

“Anyhow, sorry to dump all of this on you; my horrible apartment and all its problems.” You smiled at him and looked down, almost embarrassed.

You were so helpless, so unaware of your own mortality. Dean had no time to call Bobby, no way, he had to fix this himself. You could go home and die a bloody death today. And then that would be his fault, it would be his burden to carry, just like the death of his brother who he had sworn to protect no matter what. That was his job and he failed. He wouldn't fail you, too.

“Come on, it’s fine!” He was quick to reply. “That’s… that’s what friends are for.” He still hadn’t let go of your arm, drawing tiny circles on your skin with his thumb.

“Yeah, guess so.” You offered a nod, short and sweet, before moving to get up.

“Hey, Y/N, before you go, can I ask you something?” Dean’s pupils were dilated, even with the sun shining down upon him. It was the adrenaline, it was knowing that now he had a mission, a purpose, something that he had been missing for a long time. Too long, in his opinion.

“Sure.” You retorted, curious.

“That thing you said about not being able to take me as a patient, is that set in stone?”

#spn fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean x original female character #dean x you #Supernatural smut #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #POV Dean Winchester #Protective Dean #jealousy #stalker #possessive #fluff and feels #angst

[lovelywhiteroses]

Can wwe still have jealous Ashino with MC comforting him?

✨🌹Hehe of course my darling Anon! Let us begin!🌹✨

⚠️Reminder that these characters are not mine they belong to the creator Espoir Du Vide who is the creator of Picture Perfect Boyfriend. So some things I may write may not be cannon. I am only going off what I know by the information I have, thank you for reading this part and let us go into the scenario together.⚠️

Ashino has always been cocky with you, pretending not to care about you. But when it comes down to Ashton he can get a little positive of you, You and Ashton got along to an extent. Ashino knew Ashton still loved you, and that’s what ticked him off. You agreed to spend some time with Ashton today, he knew this but couldn’t help thinking about a slim chance that you could just fall in love with him and leave him alone. He hates that feeling. He decided to pay a visit to the flower garden, when walking though it and clearing his head, admiring the beautiful flowers, however when he looked up a bit he saw you and Ashton. He felt his blood boil at the sight. However he decided not to intrude, he decided to listen in. “The flowers look beautiful don’t you think?” You’d smile at him as you lean down to admire the flower at a close angle. “Yeah. If anything they seem to have tidied the garden up more. I surprised they decided to still include the garden, even after-… um…” An awkward silence filled the air between the two of you. Ashton cleared his throat and decided to break the silence first. “Um yeah… but that’s all in the past now, but I mean you were put in that situation cause of me… look I’m sorry for what happened… I didn’t consider what you would think. I didn’t take your feelings into account.” You would lift yourself a bit to pat his head to reassure him. “It’s ok Ashton, yes it was terrifying for me, and I genuinely thought that maybe- agh! The point is, I forgive you Ashton.” You then hug him, Ashton was taken aback a bit, however he didn’t complain. He was genuinely happy, his face was a bit pink feeling flustered. He hugged you back, However Ashino was still watching and could help but feel his blood boil with anger, was he jealous? Before he knew it, his body moved on his own on instinct. “HEY!” You and Ashton looked over to see Ashino walking over to you and grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. “Ashino wha-?” He pull you towards him. Your head to his chest, you could feel you face heat up. “You better keep your dirty hands off them! Do you have any idea how delicate they are?! Don’t worry I’ll protect you from this Virus!” Ashton and Ashino glared at each other. “Wow… I had no idea how much you cared for me Ashino.” Ashino look at you and realized how close the two of you were. His felt his face heat up at the fact your close to him. And the fact is not cause your close to him, but the fact your actually close to him and blushing at how protective he is. He quickly let go of you and cleared his throat. “I- well of course.. you’ve been through hell with this guy. B-Besides… it’s not so hard to protect you from a guy like him.” You giggled a bit. Ashton only rolled his eyes underneath his hair. “If you wanted some attention to Ashino, all you have to do is ask and I’ll provide it for you.” Ashino got even more flustered at that, the fact your willing to give him your attention with no conditions at all felt nice but he wouldn’t admit it a loud. “You don’t need to, besides what if I don’t ask at all. So your offer is a bit pointless…” you were a bit hurt at that, but still smiled at him. “Well the offer is still open if you ever want it.” He looked away trying not to show how flustered he was. “Haha! The goodie two shoes is all flustered HAHAHA!” Ashton laughed as you nudged him to be nice. “SHUT UP!” That was the day you found out Ashino cared about you more than you knew. And you found it kinda cute.

You feel like You and Ashino might get closer in the future.

✨🌹Hopefully this was to your liking dear Anon. And have a happy holidays.🌹✨

#scenarios #scenarios writing #writing scenarios #picture perfect boyfriend

[anthrofreshtodeath]

More Crossover Work

Ok so I wanted to play with putting Booth/Brennan and Rizzles conversations side by side, and then added sex in to make it interesting 😂

Still getting a feel for b&b, but I'm feeling a little more comfortable. This is under a cut because it's naughty.

“It’s not the Royal Diner, but I know you have to be hungry,” Brennan carries a greasy paper bag in her hand when she announces her presence in the homicide bullpen.

It’s late, enough for most other detectives to be gone, and a lot of the lights are out. Booth sits slumped in his office chair, his white shirt with two streaks of dirt across the front, the gum soles of his slip-on Vans planted on the linoleum below. He blinks, like if his eyes move quickly enough, his exhaustion will evaporate, but nevertheless, they light up when they see her arrive. She takes the seat next to his desk and he smiles. “Oh hey, Bones, look at that,” he sits up straight when she puts the takeout box in front of him. “Burger and fries.”

Brennan half-smiles at him and then turns to Jane, who is looking at the screen of her phone. “I have it on good authority that The Dirty Robber has some of the best food in the Back Bay,” she says, “I’m sorry, Jane, I didn’t know you were still here; I would have-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jane, looking just as haggard as Booth, rubs a long hand over her features. She puts her phone down. “I gotta get outta here, anyway. And if that good authority is my mother, you better temper those expectations a bit.”

Booth chuckles, his ribs a little sore from tackling the running suspect they encountered in a truck depot just outside the city only a couple hours prior to now. “Your mom’s a nice lady, Jane,” he tells her around a french fry. “You could stand to give her a break every once in a while.”

“She got to you, too?” Jane stands and throws her blazer over her equally dirty button-up shirt. “Was it the sack lunches she sent in yesterday?”

“That mighta been part of it, yeah,” says Booth. “I love a snack pack.”

“He does. He has quite the affinity for pudding,” Brennan adds, “especially when he’s injured.” She throws her head in his direction and crosses her legs. Then she pops the lid off of her own food and begins to navigate it.

“Not a bad choice,” Jane chimes in when she picks up her keys. “You two have a nice dinner, and a nice night. I’m off.”

“Hot date?” asks Booth. 

“Yeah,” snarks Jane on her way to the elevator, “with the first loves of my life. The Boston Red Sox and my couch. Night!” 

“See ya!” Booth calls out, and then he turns his attention to Brennan as soon as the doors ding shut. “She’s goin’ to go see Maura.”

“What, like sexually? No, Booth, they’re divorced,” Brennan shakes her head to dismiss him, but nevertheless leans in to share the conspiracy with him.

“The secret texts? The get up and go? Seen it all before,” he tells her, elbows on the table while he points a long fry in her direction. “Divorce or no divorce.”

“They don’t seem to like each other very much when we’re all together,” Brennan posits. She picks the fry out from Booth’s fingers and chews it. She shrugs. “Doctor Isles becomes very clinical when she’s angry. Moreso than me,” she observes. “And when Jane is around, she’s very often angry.”

“More than you? That possible?” Booth teases, and he ducks when a blueberry from Brennan’s fruit cup flies toward his forehead.

“Wh- Booth,” Brennan chides in that way that tells him she’s actually a little insecure about it.

“Aw c’mon, you’re not that bad,” he soothes, getting close, patting her wrist, even though he still wears that guilty grin. “But you gotta look beyond the surface. She’s mad because she’s hurt. She’s hurt because she cares. She cares because she’s, y’know, still in love, Bones.”

“I don’t see it that way. Doctor Isles is an empiricist and love is fleeting,” Brennan tells him, and he sits back, moving away from the moment because he’s heard it all before. “It’s fickle and she’s clearly moved on.”

“See, this is the problem,” Booth says, crossing his arms. He is thankful for the emptiness of the bullpen because he feels his ears getting hot. “You think everyone’s thinkin’ with their heads all the time, but those two are thinkin’ with their hearts right now.”

“That’s absurd. The brain is the only organ with which you can think,” Brennan scoffs, “you might be able to argue about the neuronal connection to the gut, but even then, the heart isn’t involved in cognition at all. Beyond, of course, its role as blood supply to-”

“It’s!” Booth starts through gritted teeth, but then he stops himself when his hands come forward and clench. “It’s… not that simple. Rizzoli’s been through hell, and she’s just tryin’ to prove that she’s worthy. That she’s worthy of the risk it would be to take her back, whether either of them see that or not. And them seeing each other is probably the only way they can have that conversation right now.”

Brennan pauses, and then she sighs. Her eyes catalog all of Booth’s signs of arousal, the ones that prove his nervous system is on high alert, and the sexuality that runs deep underneath it, because he’s buried it to move through his day. She drops her mouth open before she speaks, like she is trying to think of exactly the right words to say. “You are… talking about us,” she says. “Or, more accurately, about you. But I’ve already told you… you don’t need to prove yourself worthy. It’s not about that.”

Booth knocks his head back against his seat, and his eyes get glossy, wet. He never cries the tears that coat them, at least, never in her presence, and she doesn’t know if she’s appreciative that he’s spared her the emotion she has no idea how to carry, or disappointed that he doesn’t trust her with it. “It’s not about that,” he echoes lamely. Like he’s not sure he’s heard correctly so he has to assure himself. “Let’s just finish up dinner, a’right? Then we can get back to the hotel and get a decent night's sleep. Remind me to talk to Rizzoli tomorrow about moving the operation out to Amherst permanently.”

“Booth,” Brennan pleads, but she doesn’t know what for, because the conversation they stumbled into is one she’s been dreading since… well, that she has always dreaded. 

“Just eat your sandwich, huh?” He says around a giant bite of his own. He sucks ketchup off his thumb and then he looks anywhere but her eyes. “I’m tired.”

___

“Hey,�� Jane calls when she walks through the front door of her little one bedroom about three blocks from the station. She drops her keys on the counter and opens up the gun safe around the corner in the kitchen so that she can lock up her firearms for the evening. She punches in the code, and when she finally faces the living room, the harness holster on her shoulders is empty, her shirt untucked. “You sure whatever I left at the house couldn’t wait? I know-” 

She stops herself, because while she expected to see Maura there, she did not expect to see Maura on her couch, in nothing but what appears to be her underwear and Jane’s very old, very lucky, Jason Varitek jersey. The home white with the Red Sox across the front, even though each word drifts away from the other because the first three buttons are undone and Jane can see the hardest working pushup bra she’s ever encountered beneath. Maura barely turns her head, and by god, the sexiest part about the whole scene is that she might actually be more invested in the Sox/Orioles game on the big screen than whatever performance she originally intended to put on. “Hmm?” she begins, only turning her head once the pitch has been thrown and counted for a strike against Xander Bogaerts. “You cut yourself off.”

Very, very lucky, thinks Jane. “Hmm,” she echoes, but in that way she often does, swallowing and tucking her chin down just before marching into a situation she has no idea how to handle. She marches to her own sofa, the one she had to buy when Maura kicked her out of the house, the one where Maura sits now. “Babe? What uh, what are you doin’ here? In that?”

“Well, I came in my work attire,” Maura answers. She reaches for the remote, turns the TV on a soft mute before she faces Jane completely. “But I’ll admit that when I arrived I wanted to wear something that would put you at ease with me,” she whispers into Jane’s mouth when she pulls Jane forward by the front of her shirt. 

Jane’s gaze flickers to Maura’s wet lips, then lower. The Tek jersey is a men’s medium, and had been a gift. She usually wears it over a hoodie for games like tonight, in mid April when there’s still a chill in the Fenway air. It drapes on Maura now, just enough for Jane to imagine sinking her teeth into the tops of Maura’s breasts - the ones on tasteful display. “At ease?” Jane asks. “Maura, I…”

Maura silences her by dropping to the floor, kneeling between Jane’s long legs, and tugging at Jane’s belt until it pops loose. At the sound, their eyes meet. Jane’s hands squeeze into fists on the tops of her own thighs, because when Maura arches her back forward, the jersey rides up, and an all black, sheer Agent Provocateur thong peeks through. It leaves no ass to the imagination, and Jane squirms - everything’s far away except the pounding of her own heartbeat in her ears. “Sit up,” Maura’s voice brings her to reality again, not some far-off blurry space, but to the thick air of her apartment living room. Maura is still there and yanking the waistband of Jane’s slacks toward her. Jane lifts herself, and the weight of her belt causes her pants to thump to the floor around her ankles. 

She’s exposed. She’s wet, and she knows Maura sees that, and she can’t help but spread her knees at Maura’s insistence. There are teeth on the short patch of hair just between her hips, and then, pressure. A bite. “Agh,” she grimaces, because it feels so good. “At ease isn’t exactly what I’d call this,” she asserts.

Maura looks up then, her tongue out, hovering dangerously low. “Well, I wanted you at ease until I saw that new toy in your nightstand.” She wastes no more time, and dips her head into Jane, waiting for her. “Now I just want to unravel you.”

Jane winces at the first tongue swipe, the one that spreads her and exposes her to Maura’s expert mouth. Her hand grips the armrest and her toes curl and Maura keeps going. Pleasure, wet and writhing, wraps around her waist. “What’re you doin’ goin’ through my things, huh?” she yips, when something hard brushes her clit. Damn Maura for knowing all her weaknesses and rolling them up into one sexual show of force. 

“I was looking for this,” Maura looks up, blinking herself into a pout, kissing Jane as she pinches jersey material between her fingers. “Why do you have it? Who’s it for, Jane?” she demands. “Who are you seeing?”

Her pout transforms into a scowl just before she returns to licking Jane into a frenzy. She mimics Jane’s most devastating slow, deep, encompassing stroke to make her come. Jane gets the other message, too: I know exactly how you fuck, and I’ll use it against you. You better not be fucking anyone else like this. Jane moans, turning her head into her arm, the one clutching the headrest of the sofa behind her. “Jesus,” she croaks. “Nobody. I keep it here for you, a’right? I wanna fuck you. Just you.”

Maura stops. She looks up again, this time her green eyes shining with mischief, and maybe a little sentimental humor. She says nothing in reply, just closes her lips around the apex of Jane’s sex and spends all of the next two minutes there. Sucking, licking, kissing, sending indecent squelching sounds to mingle with Jane’s groaning. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Jane chants, because her orgasm has hit her all at once. The tension she carries makes her ribs bark, an injury nearly identical to Booth’s, but she rides through it for all the colors bursting behind her shut eyelids, all the zaps of oxytocin slithering out to her limbs while Maura brings her back down. “Fuck, babe,” she gulps in air as it passes. 

Maura licks her lips, and climbs up to straddle Jane’s wide open lap. “I don’t believe you,” she says into Jane’s parted lips. Jane’s hands slide onto her ass with a barely-there squeeze. “I shouldn’t believe you.”

“Why not?” Jane pants. Her chest heaves and seeing Maura this close, in that Sox home white, revs her up again. She walks two fingers around to Maura’s front, lace scratching against her fingertips, which earns her hand a smack. “Youch!”

“Don’t touch me yet,” Maura orders. When Jane’s brows narrow, confused, Maura gathers her head and pulls it close. “You belong to me only, Jane,” she says in Jane’s ear. When Jane pulls back to argue, Maura pulls the hair at the base of Jane’s neck so that Jane stares up while she stares down. “Divorce or not. You. Belong. To. Me.”

Jane nods slowly, and though Maura’s grip is tight, she shows mercy in the way she scratches Jane’s hairline. Jane shivers and her sex pulses. An elixir of domination and affection? Maura intends to end her. “You… you left me,” she says, moving her hands back to Maura’s thighs, her hips, her waist. 

“Mine,” Maura reiterates. She kisses Jane, all soft lips and tongue, and Jane can’t help but kiss back, pulling Maura close. Her thumbs swipe the bottom of Varitek’s number 33, halfway up Maura’s back. “Come to bed. I’m going to show you,” Maura says.

She rises, puts her feet on the floor all while Jane watches. Jane freezes, stays put, until Maura throws a look over her shoulder right at the mouth of the hallway to the bedroom. Then, Jane jumps up, yanking her boots away and hopping out of her pants. Her shirt takes a little longer because she struggles with the buttons, but soon enough, it flutters to the floor, her undershirt and bra completing the trail to where she meets Maura in the dark hall. “Hey, hey,” she calls, like she has done often since their breakup, and she pulls Maura close to her by the wrist.

Maura whimpers when Jane, naked, with scars and muscle and olive skin exposed to the air, presses her into the wall behind them. Her head knocks against it, and she wraps her arms around Jane’s shoulders for stability when Jane’s hands rub up against her hips again. Fingers entwine with the sexy elastic there, twisting and smoothing and begging to get rid of it. “Jane,” she warns.

Jane keeps it up. She smoothes the skin under that elastic, her thumbs alternating between pressure and delicate touch. “Take ‘em off for me,” she pleads, her voice silky and rough, somehow at the same time. The bottom drops out of her pitch and Maura’s mouth opens, like she wants to swallow it. “I wanna see you. I wanna touch you. I wanna get wet,” Jane pursues her case.

And all the kissing and the touching and the body-to-body moments break Maura’s resolve. She looks down, their legs all tangled, their feet so close together on the carpet, and makes a decision. She lets Jane go so she can pull her underwear away from her body and hold them up.

Jane turns from Maura’s mouth and looks. She leans into the barely-there thong in Maura’s hand, inhales, and then, when she’s found where they’re wettest, she bites them, taking the cocktail on her tongue. She kisses Maura with that new taste - the smacks of it are loud and sweet, and match when she brings her fingers back between Maura’s legs.

This time, Maura opens. She shifts to the balls of her feet and wraps a leg around one of Jane’s when she takes two fingers inside. She and Jane knock against the wall for a few thrusts, Jane’s hot breath tumbling into Maura’s ear and down her neck. Jane’s shoulders flexing under her fingers while she holds on. When the pleasure grows so heavy as to be mind-altering, she drags fingernails through the sweat down Jane’s back. “Stop,” Maura orders, and Jane does pause. “Bed.”

“We throwin’ a wrench in yah plans?” Jane teases, and there’s Boston in her whisper. 

“You are. You’re the one wrenching my plans,” Maura whines, half because Jane slips out, and half because Jane really is turning this thing on its head. 

Jane laughs at the verbiage. “Well, I am a plumber’s daughter, y’know,” she says, but Maura is already halfway through the bedroom’s threshold. So, she jogs the last few steps until she can catch up. “Where you goin’, huh? C’mere,” she beckons as they fall into the bed together. 

They kiss for a few more seconds; Maura can’t resist, but then she pushes Jane back onto the unmade bed. “Stay there,” she says. She shuffles on her knees toward Jane’s side of the bed, opens the nightstand, and pulls out the toy and harness she’d happened upon during execution of plan A. “Put it on.”

Jane licks her lips and does as told. There is a flurry of movement and Jane grunts when the curved end slips into her, and then she tugs at the base to get the feel just right. With that hand still holding it, she nods at Maura. “Come find me, babe.”

Maura rolls her eyes, but mostly so that the unexpected swell of emotion doesn’t spill over. The intimacy in Jane’s demand reminds her of times past, when the only thing between them was love. She shuffles, straddles Jane again, and decides that she won’t hold back. She lowers herself, Jane keeps the toy steady, and as a team, they achieve union between them. “Christ,” Maura adjusts slowly. She settles, lets her weight rest against Jane’s lap. Her hands caress each of Jane’s sides, including the one with the bruise. She is full and she needs something to anchor her to the moment. “This is superficial,” she says. The wound is warm under her palm, and it undulates with the way she rocks her hips. “It should heal quickly.”

Jane has to tell her long legs to still because Maura’s rhythm is a deadly one and if she gives into it too fast, she’ll come again before Maura even gets a chance. Looking up and seeing perfect tits beneath a Boston jersey does the opposite of help. “‘S that what this is all about? I got hurt? Because I wasn’t the only one.” She tries to control the speed of Maura’s fucking, but she gets lost in the feeling of Maura’s ass in her hands, full and soft and pushing silicone into her at the perfect angle. “Agh,” she moans, unable to keep up her tough exterior. 

“No, that’s not it,” Maura yelps when Jane pushes up with her pelvis, going deep. She gathers her long honey hair into her hands, holding it up before letting it go and puffing feminine little moans above her head. Her fingers then go back to Jane, to that one puckermark of a scar just to the right of her abdomen. “I just… I needed this. Without the fighting and the tension. I…”

“Hey, hey, ok,” Jane says through a grimace, because orgasm threatens her again. “I - I’m not complainin’, y’know,” she laughs, and then, finally, finally, Maura does too. “The sportswear was a nice touch.”

Maura winks, and then she picks up the pace of her ride, the fucking now fast, and hard. “Think… oh. Think of it as a ceasefire, my love,” she struggles to reply. Her gaze drops, because Jane is shaking and then tossing her head back against the pillow. Maura can think of nothing better to usher Jane through her climax than the cries bubbling up out of her own mouth from how good Jane feels inside, so she doesn’t hide them.

“Shit,” Jane clenches her teeth as she comes again, her grip tight against Maura’s skin, holding her in place. 

So, Maura slows, bends down, letting every inch of her upper body touch every inch of Jane’s until their lips meet. Each kiss is soft, slow, and sweet. “Hmm,” Maura hums when Jane stills.

“Proud of yourself?” Jane asks hoarsely, and Maura sits up again, resuming the winding of her hips. She shrugs and smirks. Jane licks the length of her own thumb and puts it on Maura’s clit to humble her as much to repay her for the good time.

“Oh, Jane,” Maura breathes out when she feels it. Bolts of electricity speed all the way to her brain, and she spreads her thighs so that Jane can have better access and she can ride faster. 

“Hey, oh,” Jane coos. “It’s not gonna take long,” she says, and Maura glares at the pride she senses in the statement. “It’s not,” Jane insists. “I know you, you know me. I’ll get ya there quick. Just ride it out.”

Maura would never tell Jane, but she’s grateful for Jane’s commitment, her steadfastness. Because true to her word, she gets Maura there quick. Maura accepts the oxytocin bath over her whole body, arching her back and making her cry into her own palm as it slides down her face. The other flattens against Jane’s chest, holding on tight until every jerky motion cycles through her hips and she can gather herself. “That…”

“Was quick,” says Jane. “Told ya. I know this was a you-showin’-me-who’s-boss kinda thing but I couldn’t let ya get me twice without a little bit of fun for yourself.”

Maura hangs her head. She wants to dismount, but her legs are like jelly and the thought of pulling Jane out of her incites grief. Feelings of loss she doesn’t quite want to deal with for at least the next few seconds. “I was going to say that was good,” she admonishes Jane’s humility. 

“We’re good together,” Jane says. “Like I said before: this was never the problem with us. And if I’m hearin’ you right, you don’t want the other problems in the way tonight.”

Maura bites down on her lower lip, hard, her crying tell. She hates it, but Jane is right and Jane has seen her. Has listened. Suddenly she needs nothing more than to lie down. So, she does, moving until she is under the covers and hears Jane divest herself of the toy they’d shared. It falls to the floor, and Jane turns until she can gather Maura up from behind. “Is it ok if I stay here tonight?” Maura asks, her voice quiet and unsure.

“Course,” mumbles Jane into the hair on the back of Maura’s head. Maura moves backwards until most of their skin touches. Jane’s hand slips under the jersey on Maura and then she huffs. “Take this off, would ya? You’ll sleep better without it, trust me.”

Maura undoes the buttons of the jersey with care, and with Jane’s help, unsnaps her bra. Those fall to the floor, too, and Maura lets a little more vulnerability creep in now that they lie naked together. She pulls Jane’s hand up close to her heart, flattening it until it presses on her sternum. “I think…” she wavers, contemplates how much she should say, but who else would she tell? “I think Agent Booth is in love with Doctor Brennan,” she finishes quietly.

Jane smirks because Maura can’t see. “I think so, too,” she agrees, leaving out the fact that Booth has confessed as much to her. “Big time.”

“He should tell her,” Maura says as she snuggles closer. Jane gathers her up with both arms.

“I think he has,” Jane chances, hoping Maura doesn’t ask because she won’t be giving up much more.

“And she rejected him?” Maura is surprised.

Jane kisses Maura’s earlobe to soften what she’s about to say. “Well, you’re the one who always says it’s about more than just love, right? Maybe he’s just tryin’ to prove himself worthy right now.”

Maura is quiet for a bit because she had said that before, it’s true. “I don’t think it’s about being worthy, either. He seems like quite a worthy mate.”

“Hmm, I agree,” Jane burrs, which earns her a pinch on the forearm. “Ow! Not.. not for me, obviously,” she corrects, though if their lives had been different and they’d met under better circumstances... “But you’re right.”

“Maybe her heart just isn’t ready yet,” Maura whispers, curling into herself all while making sure Jane curls around her. 

“That’s not a very you thing to say,” Jane comments, amusement taking her inflection up a bit.

“What do you mean, it’s not a me thing to say?”

“Well, no studies about trauma? Or the neuroscience behind cold feet?” Jane argues. “No cardio-cerebral-blah blah blah?”

Maura pulls Jane’s hand to her face so she can bite down on its index finger. Jane yelps, and Maura soothes with her tongue. Swirls it around, sucks until the pain goes and Jane relaxes. “No, not this time. I want you to hear me.”

“I’m still listenin’, even when you do sound like a textbook,” Jane tells her. “But, for what it’s worth, I agree with you. I don’t think her heart is ready yet. I also just don’t know how long he can wait.”

Maura says nothing. Jane accepts that, snuggles close, and lets herself fall asleep against Maura while the last of the Sox game carries in from the living room. Maura waits until she hears that deep, even breathing to speak. “How long can you wait?” she asks when she knows she won’t get an answer. 

They lay, and Jane sleeps, for over an hour. Maura looks out the window through the crack in the curtains, and the April moon shines brightly. She knows she won’t rest with it there, not as she lies now, and not until she gets up to use the restroom that is attached to Jane’s bedroom. She pats, Jane stirs, but doesn’t free her. “Move, please. I need up,” she says softly. 

Jane wakes enough to move and settles onto her back again, with a huff of sleepy air and a stretch of just her lower half under the sheets. It evokes visceral memories in Maura, of their marriage bed, and she’s glad for the dark on the way into the bathroom and the way out of it, because she can’t hide the emotion on her face. She’s also glad for the way Jane’s eyes flutter with dreams, how her consciousness drifts beyond the here and now. Maura’s hands are cold from having just been washed, and her feet from the spring chill. Her heart is cold with all that they’ve become.

And as if anticipating it, Jane wakes when Maura climbs back into bed. “C’mere,” she says, “it’s cold tonight.” 

Maura frowns, and the tears might win. She burrows into the side that Jane’s offered, and hides her head in the crook of Jane’s shoulder in case they do. She finds Jane’s bruise and rubs on it again. When she speaks, she has to sniffle some moisture away. “What are we doing?” 

“Sleepin’,” Jane deadpans, pulling her close and kissing her temple. “Shh.”

“Not what I mean. I can’t just keep using you; you’re so kind,” the words are muffled against Jane’s skin. 

Jane snorts; she wakes fully. “Wha-?” She asks as her brain catches up. “What do you mean, usin’ me?”

Maura scoffs. “Using you. I can’t just show up whenever I want to be penetrated. It’s not fair to you,” she answers. 

Jane frowns, and then squints. “You gotta be so… clinical?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? I like to be accurate,” Maura says.

“But that’s not accurate,” Jane argues. 

“Of course it is,” Maura responds. It intrigues her, Jane’s line of thought, so she pushes up on her elbows until she can look Jane in the face. Green meets brown and Maura bites her lip again. Oh hell, she thinks, because she can’t stop her hand from smoothing the hair on the top of Jane’s head.

Jane knows the effect she’s had, and so she shuts her eyes and smiles. “I mean, the using, maybe sometimes. You deserve to use me a little bit after everything that went down between us,” she says. Maura pulls back, but Jane’s hand on the small of her back brings her close again. “Plus - I know I’m not just a dick to you.”

This time, Maura’s face scrunches. “Must you be so non-clinical?”

Jane barks out a laugh. “You want me to say, uh, non-biological phallus-shaped object, Doctor?” she prods, and Maura blushes before she shrugs. “Either way, it’s true. No matter what you might say. Sure you’re mad at me, and maybe I’m mad at you, and we’re not together anymore. But we’re never just ships passin’ in the night, here, babe. We’re makin’ love. Every time. Because we miss each other. I miss you.”

Jane is earnest, not desperate. She’s open, but not distraught. And Maura melts into her arms because of it. “Oh, Jane,” she breathes again, just before they kiss and just before Jane shifts on top of her for the first time this evening.

#lauren writes crossover fanfiction #there's sex in this one fyi #sex barely related to an already tenuous plot #also it's long #it's a coin toss whether any of these scenes will end up in the actual fic #but this one probably has the best chance #jane would also give a seeley-esque 'makin' love' speech so here it is