#also i might put more glow stars on my ceiling. and also i need to get shelves i think. and some storage boxes.

[fabulouslygaybean]

finally managed to force myself into bed at 5:30am. im gonna (try to) get off tumblr for the night i think

#goodnight y'all #im thinking about bands and my bedroom and my beloved pokemon ripoff game #im just gonna ramble here so i can hopefully shut my brain up enough to sleep #my room is such a mess. like im used to it by now and i like it when my room is kinda messy bc it feels lived in #but it's getting to the point where its super bad. like i haven't swept in months kind of bad. #im gonna slowly try and chip away at it over the next few weeks #once its clean enough to live in im gonna go ham with decorating. i have posters i haven't put up yet and trinkets i haven't set out yet #also im gonna paint part of my room with chalkboard paint so i can draw on my walls. because sometimes you just need to do that <3 #also i might put more glow stars on my ceiling. and also i need to get shelves i think. and some storage boxes. #i might post pictures once i start getting it significantly cleaned up bc yeah. why not. i can technically post whatever i want here #anyways. im gonna try and sleep maybe. goodnight y'all <3 #its 5:40am as im typing this so its. very very late. or very very early i guess. take your pick

[imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul]

Cheap, Plastic Stars - Leonard McCoy

A/N: Happy Star Trek Day! I wrote this in a sleep-deprived fugue the other night, but knew that I needed to post something for today. I hope you all enjoy!

Pairing: Leonard McCoy x Reader Word Count: 963 Synopsis: Leonard comes home to find that Jim and the reader have taken over his bedroom.

When Leonard comes home, the lights are off in the apartment. This isn’t entirely unexpected, it’s nearly 1:00 a.m., and any sane person would be asleep. Unfortunately, Leonard doesn’t know any sane people. Other than himself. Although the more time he spend with his friends, the closer he feels to insanity.

It had been a long night. Although he’s on leave, he was still keeping busy. He assisted at the nearby hospital whenever he could, and tonight he got called in for an emergency C-section. Both mom and baby were fine, and resting, and now, Leonard wanted to be resting, too.

But as he approached his bedroom, and heard the giggling coming from inside, he knew that would not be the case.

When he pushed open the door to his bedroom, it was as dark as the living room, except for a very dim glow from little plastic stars on his ceiling. Laying in his bed was his best friend and his girlfriend. 

You and Jim both had the blankets pulled up to your chin and were chuckling under the covers until you spotted Leonard. When you saw him, the chuckle became a howl.

“Do I even want to know?” Leonard asked with a sigh. You grinned at him from the bed and wiggled over, elbowing Jim to do the same.

“Come here,” you said, patting the bed. Leonard groaned and kicked off his shoes and his jacket before lying down next to you.

“Hi,” you said, giggling as you did.

“Hi,” he said, smiling despite his better judgement.

“Hi,” Jim chimed in, making you both burst out laughing again.

“Did you two go through my medicine cabinet again?” Leonard asked.

“No,” you said, bumping your shoulder against his, “But we did get into some delicious wine from the grocery store.”

“Makes sense,” Leonard said, relaxing against his pillow. “What are those stupid stars doing up there?”

“We also got those from the grocery store,” Jim said. You nodded proudly. 

“Why?”

“Because you’re scared of space,” you said, yawning loudly. You snuggled in a bit closer to his side, and Leonard put his arm around you.

“And why would I wanted to be reminded of that every night?”

“We thought the stars might make you get used to it, so you wouldn’t be as scared.”

“It didn’t really work though,” Jim said. “Most of them fell onto the floor or under your bed.”

“We were gonna make constellations!” you said, whisper-shouting into Leonard’s ear. He pulled back a little, but kept you still in his arms. The idea was stupid, a fact he would be sure to tell the both of you, but he knew it came from the right place.

“There are only two stars up there,” he said plainly. You snorted and tucked your face into his shoulder, laughing as Jim did next to you, nearly shaking the bed with his laughter. 

“Constellations can have two stars,” Jim said, looking up smugly at your work. 

“Okay, so what constellation is that?”

“That’s a new one we came up with,” you said, excitedly pulling away from his arms and looking up. “We call it the Leonard.”

“The Bones,” Jim corrected.

“We could not decide on a name,” you said, smiling as you looked at him. “But we dedicated our constellation to you.”

Leonard smiled at you and gripped your shoulder a little tighter. You wrapped your arm around his chest and let out another big yawn. Leonard thought he heard some snoring coming from Jim’s side, but when he looked at his friend, he was all grins.

“Aren’t you wondering why we’re in the bed?” he asked, smirking at him.

“The thought crossed my mind, yeah,” Leonard said, sighing.

“We were testing out the stars. We wanted to see if they would lull you to sleep, so we tried to fall asleep, too.”

“It didn’t work,” you said.

“You two are idiots,” Leonard said. You both laughed, and then, Leonard did, too. “But because you are idiots who are also drunk, I will give you a pass. Jim, it is one in the morning, please get out of my bed.”

“I’m not sure I can walk,” he said, grinning as he sat up.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, “We’ve got a doctor here.” For some reason, that made Jim laugh even more, and it was another five minutes before he left the room. Once the door had shut behind him, Leonard pulled you closer into his arms.

“How did the surgery go?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.

“Good,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “I guess I still don’t understand why the two of you had to lay in bed.”

“I think we just got sleepy. It’s hard work sticking stars to the ceiling,” you said, smiling against his chest. Leonard smiled too as he ran his hand through your hair. “Do you like your stars?”

“I do.”

“Do they make you feel less afraid?”

“Sure.”

“Good,” you said dreamily. “We worry about you, you know? We want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Good. Me too.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Leonard.”

Leonard looked at the ceiling for a while after you had fallen asleep. One look at the end of his bed proved that there had been more plastic stars, but he was particularly fond of the two that had clung on. Two stars to watch over him, from the two people closest to him. 

His friends were idiots. They were insane idiots who got too drunk on cheap, peach wine, who impulsively bought glow-in-the-dark stars, who decorated their friends room without asking, and who laid in his bed for some godforsaken reason. They were idiots.

His friends were insane, but he wouldn’t trade them for anyone better.

#leonard mccoy #leonard mccoy x reader #leonard mccoy imagine #leonard mccoy fanfic #leonard mccoy fanfiction #star trek #star trek imagine #star trek fanfic #star trek fanfiction #jim kirk #jim kirk fanfic #jim kirk fanfiction #star trek day

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: Goodbye Was Not Our End (pt. 3)

Something about their meeting had been bugging him. It wasn’t the meeting itself, although the awkward air had left something to be desired. It was Damian himself, it was like Jon was now seeing him differently. It could have just been because of the time passed, something past physical appearance, but whatever it was kept a hold onto him for the rest of the day.

He picked Laurel up from the daycare center and let her watch a movie in the meantime, while he attempted to sort himself out.

There was something there and he would not be able to sort it out by himself. He went into his room after double checking Laurel’s activity, and dialed Kathy.

“How did it go?” The words were said the moment she picked up.

“ I also accept hello, how are you, and good evening.” He said, a teasing note in his voice.

“That’s bull, I helped your disastrous fashion choices and you promised me the details on your estranged famous pop star bestie.”  

“It went…okay. I can’t tell if it was more for closure than anything, but we’re going to meet up again.” Jon sighed, putting the phone on speaker and laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

”Well, that’s good, right?” A rustle of papers and a pencil scratching something out on them accompanied her words. ”Even if y’all can’t get back to where ya once were, it can still be turned back into a relationship that means something again.” 

Jon exhaled, fidgeting with his hands. “There was something off about it, almost like I noticed too much and too little at the same time. It felt so good to be back together, you know?”

“Reunion euphoria.” Kathy summarized. *”What was the biggest thing you noticed about him?”

“Well, it faded, I guess, and became awkward.” Jon scratched his scalp gently. “Um, I guess it would have to be his overall physical look.”

”Hmm. Describe it to me?” Kathy sounded almost… amused? No, that couldn’t be right.

“He was taller, but still way shorter than me. Nothing’s changed there.” He chuckled fondly. “All of his features were shared now, an adult’s face. My parents would say that he looks just like his mom.”

“Wasn’t his mom, like, the most beautiful in the world, according to both your parents?” 

Jon sputtered, tips of his ears going red. “W-well, i mean-”

“And didn’t you have a crush on him early on before…I hate to disrespect the dead, but that bitch?” 

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” he glowered at the phone from his vantage point on the bed.

”Jon, I think what’s going on here is that you realized he had a glow-up.” Kathy’s voice definitely had a tinge of amusement and it caused the other boy to scowl.

“S’not like he needed one to begin with.” The mutter was still picked up from the other end and caused the girl to laugh, the sound coming a bit staticy.

”There’s your proof, bestie. Look, it doesn’t mean something has to come from it. Objectively speaking, you’re not half bad yourself, and I'm not trying to date you.” 

Jon groaned, shoving a pillow on his face. “I don’t like adulting, Kath, take me back to, like, elementary.”

She snorted. ”It’s not that bad. Look, focus on rebuilding your friendship, getting somewhere is the first step. If you need me to pick up Laurel one of these days, you know I'm always happy to be Aunt Kathy with the angel.” 

“Mkay.” He took the pillow from his face and stared at the ceiling. “I’ll let you know. Thanks, Kathy.”

“Of course. Who else would help you sort out your disastrous life?” She laughed on the other end. “Take care of yourself, talk later.”

The call ended and Jon was left with more confusion than before.

Jon_Kent

Hey  

ROBIN_Official

Hi 

Jon_Kent

It was rlly good to c u again 

Ik u said we could meet up again 

And i thought it might be easier to have my number? 

Its xxx-xxx-xxxx 

ROBIN_Official is typing… 

Unknown number 

Its damian hi 

Im free next wednesday 

Awesome same plac as last time 

Yeah, sounds good. Same time? 

Sure sounds good. Cya then ^^ 

See you then! 

Gradually, the visits became regular weekly events, the old, crumbled bond being the foundation for a new tentative relationship to be built on top, not quite what it once was, but something healing under the bandaid. Every meeting and visit, the long missed conversations lasting well into the nights was a new stitch in the gash.

Damian became D, then Damian again, before Dames, and Dame and over the few months, it became Dami again, affectionate and sweet.

The stiffness faded, and they fell into an easy new rhythm none were willing to break. The subject of their past was a dark, locked chest in the top shelf, gathering dust. Opening it would be Pandora’s box, but it was entirely necessary. 

Both were unwilling to bring the subject up again, not wanting to let the past break them again. It was costing the both of them, Damian from guilt, and Jon feeling like he was hiding a vital part of his life.

About three months had passed from their first meeting in October, and they were now in the middle of January. Laurel would be two soon, and Damian had no idea she existed. Jon kept meaning to mention her, but what do you tell your old best friend about something like this?

Oh yeah, so I didn’t tell you in the few months we’ve been meeting that I have a child! Her mom is the same person who destroyed our friendship!  

No. Absolutely not .

This was such an important part of him that he wanted to share, something that he was so proud of. Overwhelming everything else, however, was that same old feeling of fear and worry. They’d worked so hard to get where they were now, despite not having it in them to talk about the roadblocks.

It would be fine, right?

Damian stood out in front of the cafe, scanning the crowds for Jon. The lunch rush hit their quaint little meet-up spot like no other, and with how regularly they came, the wait staff was not above holding tables for them.

Their normal server, a perky high school kid with a green and pink ponytail grinned at him, two menus in her hands.

“Afternoon, Mr. Wayne! You and Mr. Kent want your normal table?”

Damian nodded, lighting up as he saw Jon’s head of curls bobbing in the sea of people. He waved his hand and Jon appeared, grinning at both of them.

“Hey, Dames! Dalia.” They followed the waitress as she led them to a table outside, known by most of the staff as their table.

“I’ll bring you two your usual drinks?” She waited for confirmation, scribbling it down on a notepad as they gave it and rushing away.

“Oh my god, Dames,” Jon blurted out as Dalia left. “You will never believe what I heard walking into the Planet this week,”

Damian grinned, leaning forward as if they were two schoolgirls in the courtyard, letting Jon blabber on about the latest gossip.

“And then after she said that, Jen got so mad, I told Kath and she says that they’ve definitely got something going on there-”

Two glasses were placed on the table in front of them, Jon pausing in the retelling to look up at the person standing there.

Another high school kid with dark red curls and brown skin, a direct contrast to their usual server, and held a notepad in one hand.

“Dalia got held up with another table, but I can go ahead and take your order.” 

“Thank you Hayden!” Jon chirped with a quick glance at the name tag, before ratting off their usual order, looking at Damian for confirmation.

He nodded quickly and Hayden scribbled it down before dashing off to a different table.

“Alright, that’s my fill of workplace gossip, you got anything for the table?” He sipped his sweet tea and waited. 

“Well, Skylar’s 3rd graders absolutely destroyed all the paints and Akira has this weird guy who shows up like every other day, hates books and tries to hit on them but gets a latte so they can't tell him anything. Dick’s been taking his gymnastics classes much too seriously and Jason sends videos of him hanging off things that he shouldn’t be with Father begging him to get off.”

Jon snorted. “Little brothers.”

“Indeed.” Damian sighed. “My older child complex is going insane, I’ve gotten the urge to drive all the way back down there to full name the both of them.”

He laughed, remembering what a mother hen Damian had been as a teen. The other man watched fondly, drinking in the sight of his joy and the song of it ringing in his ears.

Their food was dropped off by Dalia, and they continued their conversation. They had definitely gone over their normal time, and neither seemed to notice, until Jon’s phone began to ring. He ignored it, but it persisted, and looking sheepish, he answered. 

“Hello?” 

The grin dropped and a horrified expression came over his face. Damian reached over, mouthing a question. 

”Are you okay?” 

Jon shook his head near violently, standing up and shoving his phone in his pocket. “I’m so sorry, Dames, but i gotta go-”

“No, no, that’s fine, but what's going on? Are you okay?” Damian tugged on his sleeve, concerned.

“Iforgottopickupmydaughter.” He wrenched his arm from his grasp and jogged off, leaving Damian slack jawed in the back of the little cafe.

“He has a daughter ?” 

Jon bolted into the daycare, having broken several traffic laws to get there in under ten minutes. There were still some kids and parents there, Laurel sitting alone in a chair too big for her, legs swinging.

“Hey, hey Princess, I’m so sorry-” He bent to her level, cupping her face. She was surprisingly calm about it, unlike what he would have been as a child.

“It’s okay.” She said finally. “Grown-ups come back.” 

Jon was on the verge of tears, laughing weakly. “That’s right, Laurel, I’ll always come back. Let’s go home, sweetheart.”

A few minutes later, as they were driving to the apartment, his daughter’s voice spoke up, smaller than he’d ever heard it.

“Why didn’t Mama come back?”

The car nearly swerved, and Jon breathed in, steadying himself. The rest of the way was silent until he parked, and turned back.

“Mama…isn’t here anymore. She can’t come back.”

“Is she…in the stars now?”

she didn’t deserve the stars. Jon chose his next words carefully, taking a minute of silence. 

“Not exactly. She’s just…gone. She didn’t go to the stars, but she can’t come back either.”

He unlocked the car, getting out to open Laurel’s door and bring her down from her carseat that she insisted on unbuckling herself.

“Okay.” She said finally. “That’s okay.”

Something in his heart twisted painfully, and he swung her up into his arms. “How about we have some dinner now, okay?”

Admittedly, he’d forgotten all about why he’d been late to begin with. He’d just started a movie with Laurel half asleep on his side when his phone lit up, heart dropping to his stomach in dread.

Dami 💚

Would you care to explain  

why you didn’t tell me you had a daughter? 

I’m not mad  

Really 

Sorry 

I didn’t want to scare you off  

That was wrong of me  

I want to explain. 

Everything.  

Are you free this weekend? 

I can make time 

Same place? 

Yes, see you then 

“So.” Damian brought the cup to his lips. It was earlier then they would normally meet, and the chilly air had prompted them both to order warm drinks.

“So.” Jon nibbled on his bottom lip.“I owe you like, the world’s biggest explanation.” 

The other man laughed, Jon shutting his eyes and letting the familiar sound ring in his ears. He kept his hands around the cup, feeling the warmth seep through the ceramic. 

“That you do. You don’t have to tell me anything you’re uncomfortable with, but I'd like to have a general gist of what happened.”

Jon breathed in and opened his eyes, and began to talk.

“We didn’t break up when I moved to Metropolis, which I'm sure you know. After the summer, in my first year of college, she came back, and we picked up where we had left off. I knew I should have broken it off, because even though we hit our…roadblock, I could still hear your voice. You were always right to me back then, even when you were wrong.”

His laugh was awful, a small chuckle filled with bitterness.

“That was one thing I always hoped to be wrong about.” Damian whispered, long eyelashes brushing his bronze skin. Jon took a small sip from his cup and continued.

“Two years and we were twenty. It should have been enough, but something kept me there, and she always insisted that she loved me. I was so close to breaking it off, I had finally had enough. But that’s when she told me she was pregnant.  I couldn’t just leave her like that, my parents would have killed me. We eloped, cut a cake, and stayed here. We were so young, D. Too young.

“Then the baby was born. She had just turned twenty-one, and after a bit, didn’t want a baby. I didn’t understand, she’d carried the child, our child, decided to keep it, and after the novelty wore off, she was ready to give up. I was alternating between full parenting and classes because she didn’t want to parent.”

Damian was catching on slightly, still curious about the past tense. How, how had the boy he’d once known, full of sunshine and sharp edges, soft but capable, had gone through hardships like this.

“It was a Friday and I was so done. She left the baby and went out and trust me, I was absolutely pissed. There was a knock on the door, and I must have looked like the dead, answering the door with a Met U hoodie, a baby in one arm and a bottle in the other. I saw the officer and I knew. There was no way that it could have been anything else.”

He was silent, swallowing the lump in his throat. “It wasn’t love, not anymore. I wonder if it had ever been, really. But still, I held out hope. Some kind of hope that maybe we could save it, have some kind of family. She died on impact, which made me feel somewhat better. I was torn up over it for a while, but I had my parents, and Kathy. They helped with the baby a lot.”

“Car crash?” Damian whispered. He was all too familiar with those.

Jon’s face scrunched up in what seemed to be-

No, no. couldn’t be.

Slight amusement? 

“In a way.” He said slowly. Damian waited for him to go on, filled with confusion. “It was a bus.”

“The bus crashed?”

“No…no she was hit with it.”

“She was hit…with a bus ?” Damian squawked. 

“I mean, there were a bunch of other people but she was front and center. It was speeding and there was something wrong with the driver.” Jon hid his face with his cup, watching Damian gawk at him. After a few minutes, right as Damian took a sip from his own, he remarked with a raised brow,

“Ironic, isn’t it?”

Tea was spit everywhere and Jon cackled, Damian’s coughs turning into shaky laughter.

“Jonathan Samuel Kent, what would your mother say?” he sputtered.

“Oh, she agrees. She never thought she was good for me.” Jon handed him, still chuckling as Damian sopped up the mess. “Took me awhile to see it in that light, but I recognize she was hurting me in more ways than one, and though no one ever deserves death, I’m not torn up about it anymore.”

Damian smiled softly at him, hand reaching across the table to touch his. “I’m so sorry that we weren’t there for each other when these things happened. I’m here now, and so are you, and we’re friends now, I think. We’re going to build what we had back up, and I have a feeling it will be better than before. No more secrets?”

Jon moved to grip his hand like they used to when they were children

“No more secrets.”

The shorter man leaned back, lips turning up in fondness. “Now that that’s out of the way, tell me about your daughter!”

Jon brightened, immediately letting go to whip out his phone. “Oh, gosh, Dami, I've got so many pictures! Her name is Laurel, she’s almost two, and she has the fluffiest curls-”

He rambled on and on, Damian soaking it in and cooing over the pictures. Laurel, it seemed, took much more after her father, with her long dark curls and bright blue eyes, small smattering of freckles over her nose. The only trace of the child’s mother was the slightly tanned skin, a lovely mix of features creating an absolutely adorable child.

“When can I meet her?” He blurted out in the middle of one of Jon’s stories. If possible, the beam grew brighter, and Jon nearly bounced in his seat.

“Literally whenever. I can bring her here, or you could come to the apartment, or i could bring her when you meet Kathy-” 

“The apartment sounds good.” He said quietly, stopping the ongoing chatter. “Her ground, and besides, I'd like to see it.”

They both stood, the taller one bumping his shoulder with the smaller one’s. “I’ll text you the details?” 

“Sounds good.” They watched each other, before settling into a warm hug, speaking of sorrow and a small hope for renewal.

They broke apart and went their separate ways, content and peace drifting over them. They were starting again. They were starting again, and this time, they’d both make sure it would be the last time.

#damian wayne #jondami #jon kent #Damijon #kathy branden #supersons #romance #modern au #no capes au #musician au #a ROBIN mixtape #A Robin’s Song #child oc #fanfic #batman au #batman fanfic #superman #superman fanfiction #dc #dc fanfic #angst #fluff and angst #we’re fixing it

[girlnextmorgue]

Slender Mansion Room Headcanons (2/2)

NOTICE: This post is a reupload from my old Creepypasta fanfiction blog (now my main blog). If you've seen it before, that's probably because it was posted there first! I pinky promise that I'm not stealing anything, simply moving my old work here for organization purposes.

ORIGINALLY POSTED 8/29/21

-

slender mansion room hcs (2/2)

helloooo blog!!! this is part 2 of my room hcs because i get random bursts of inspiration very late at night

––––––––

Jane's room is just very like.. nice and organized. Band posters, neat shelving, nice matching furniture, soft carpet... she has it all! I think color scheme wise she keeps it black, just because she thinks it's a nice color and because it's very hard to stain. I don't think that her walls are black, since she sees that as too much of one color. I'd say she keeps them white or gray. From the few times that she's been on babysitting duty with Sally there are some drawings on the wall. Jane doesn't have the heart to scrub them off.

Clockwork's room is so cool ohmygod. Her walls are literally covered in art and sketchbook pages, like you can't tell what color the room is painted there's that much. She definitely is a bit of a hoarder, she steals/collects things she thinks are cool but she always manages to keep her room looking clean (even if she shoves laundry and other knickknacks under her bed or into her closet). And pride flags on the ceiling!! Trans and bisexual!!!! I also think she puts those glow-in-the-dark stars on her ceiling. AND there's no way she doesn't have one of those fun four-poster beds, I think it's so her to own one of those.

Nina's room is also one of my favorites to visualize!! She definitely has her walls painted a new bright color every other month (to match her hair.. you know that she dyes it) and she definitely collects a bunch of signs/pictures/posters and shit to put on her walls. She's the type to smear watercolor paints on a piece of paper and then stick it on her wall just because she wants to. Nina's also a bit of a hoarder!! She gets sentimentally attached to objects very easily so it's hard for her to let them go. She definitely has a ton of stuffed animals and clothes she doesn't like wearing anymore just because of the emotional attachment. And pictures!! There's no way she doesn't print photos of her and the other Pastas at the nearest Walgreens, it's such a Nina thing I know that she loves her friends.

EJ likes his room to be very comfortable and very clean. He doesn't keep any of his food in his room, because he knows it's messy and he doesn't want anything spilling or staining because human organs aside spilling food on your bed is really not a fun time. He keeps it dark because of the whole demon thing, but he does have lamps and stuff because he really does love to read and you need light to read (my jack is not blind!! he has really wack demon vision where its kinda wonky and monochrome..) He organizes his books really nicely, like how libraries do it by the last name of the author. He doesn't really like looking at himself so he keeps mirrors and stuff to a minimum, and his room is very dark like I said before. I do think he has a lot of candles to keep things smelling nice, because coming back smelling like literal death bothers him more than it might bother other residents of the mansion (ahem jeff).

LJ... he doesn't like, sleep, if that makes sense, and he spends a lot of his time away from the mansion, so his room is pretty bare.

Helen's room is very... well, it's very him, that's for sure. He paints his door (as i mentioned in my slender mansion ramble) and I like to think that he paints on his walls too. He uses the pieces he likes to hang around the mansion instead of on his walls, because if he looks at them too much he starts to hate him, and that will happen if he hangs them in his room. I personally think that his bed usually has some form of paint stains on it just because I know that he'd be up at odd hours of the night working on a piece and he'd just like.. pass out without bothering to change or take a shower which usually means his bed ends up needing to be stripped the next morning. His room is more likely than not littered with different types of art supplies most of the time. He usually keeps his curtains open and his easel sits by the window so he can get natural light during the day. He also has a lot of sketchbooks and unused canvases stacked up on the desk that he doesn't use (he sits on the floor).

Liu's room... He definitely has a lot of plants. They give him something to do during the day and he enjoys taking care of them and learning about them. I feel like he also has a ton of books, but mostly graphic novels and comics because he enjoyed them as a kid. So yeah, he's got DC and Marvel posters all over his walls to go with the plants and books. He definitely tries to keep his room comfortable because he enjoys hanging out with people, but for him, that means blankets and pillows and bean bag chairs littered across the floor. He also does put his laundry away, thank you very much. I also think he'd have a record player and some vinyl!! Nothing too fancy, just music he listened to in his dad's car as a kid, some stuff gifted to him from some of the other Pastas once they found out he was into that stuff, and some stuff he'd found out about on his own (whether that meant stealing from a house or ordering it online after finding something he liked on Spotify). Definitely one of the best and most comfortable rooms in the house.

#jane the killer #jane the killer headcanons #clockwork #clockwork headcanons #nina the killer #nina the killer headcanons #eyeless jack #eyeless jack headcanons #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanons #bloody painter #bloody painter headcanons #homicidal liu #homicidal liu headcanons #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons

[ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole]

Pix, where's your couch?

Some fluff to counter all the angst I've read in the last 24hrs. (Silly move as made myself cry - too many talented writers out there breaking my heart). Or at least if not fluff no angst.

Probably more a teen and up fic than general but still fairly clean (I think... I rubbish at knowing what ratings etc really).

Masterlist

...............................................

Jason stared at the space in the middle of the room.

“Pix, where’s your couch?”

“Hmmm, Jay?”

“I know you said that I could crash at your place again, so, umm, where’s the couch?”

“Oh, It had one to many blood stains so I got rid of it. You always said it was like sleeping on rocks anyway, so I’ve ordered a new one. It’s arriving next week.”

Marinette beamed up at Jason, bouncing on her toes with excitement while she grabbed his hand.

“It’s so pretty, Jay. I’m so happy that I finally could get rid of the old one and get a new beautiful comfy amazing sofa. You should see the pattern on the material. Oh oh and the detail on the frame. Hang on! I'll see if I can find a picture… you have to see it."

Marinette suddenly dropped his hand in favour of dashing about her apartment hunting for the picture as Jason's eyes darted between the chaotic woman and the space where the couch should be. Yes he'd asked to crash at her place in the past and always moaned that the couch was the worst thing to sleep on ever, but it was better than having to be near his family when he wanted to hide. Aaand he also might have come round earlier in the week before heading back to the cave to get some wounds seen to for an easier journey… but still had he really left the couch in such a state she decided to finally listen to his advice and get a new one?

"Pix, that's great and all but umm, where am I going to sleep?"

"In my bed, silly. It's the only other place."

Jason groaned and dragged his hand down his face. He knew what was going to happen next.

"Pix, darling, sweetheart, where are you going to sleep? You can't work all night which I know you love doing. You need to rest too. Look, I'll just call Roy up again and see if I can crash at one of his safe houses. Bruce is less likely to know about those."

"Jay, I'll just sleep next to you. The bed's big enough for the both of us. It'll be fine so you don't need to call Roy."

"What?!"

"It'll be fine. We can share the bed for the night. Now go dump your stuff in my room and I'll make us some dinner."

Jason grimaced as he knew there was no escaping. Roy, the arsehole, would tease him mercilessly if he didn't stay, and if he went he'd hurt Marinette's feelings as she'd offered up her home, her bed, for him to hide.

…………

"Jay, you're as stiff as a dead body. This is meant to be relaxing. If you don't want to watch this film we can sit on my dining room chairs and watch the TV out there. Or I can find some cards so we can play games at the table?"

"Nope, this is fine, Pix."

"Really? Then relax. You don't need to be so tense."

Jason took a deep breath and slowly let it out and forced himself to loosen his muscles and sink into the comfort of Marinette's bed. Apparently, due to having no seating in her living room, she'd taken to watching stuff on her laptop in bed if she wasn't working. Now the pair were both sitting on her bed watching some film she'd selected. Suddenly she trilled next to him.

"Ooo I know what will help. I bought some decent wine back from France with me after visiting my parents. I'll go get it. It's much nicer than the stuff I've found here. You'll love it Jay. It's the perfect thing to help us destress from the week."

Before Jason could respond she'd danced out the room, giggling to herself about her 'great' idea.

Jason swore to himself. He could do this. It wasn't a big deal. He could control himself. He could sit 'very' close and sleep next to his crush. It was only a crush. Not love. In her bed. It won't be that hard. He just needed to keep his cool. He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out a strategy to survive the night.

Before he had mentally formalised his survival plan Marinette burst back into the room, glasses and wine in hand, only to trip on her bedroom rug and crash face first into his lap. Miraculously saving the wine and glasses. Jason carefully removed them from her grasp as she turned to peer up at him wide eyed, face dangerously close to where it currently shouldn't be for his sanity.

"Oops. I keep doing that. I really should move that rug. Sorry Jay."

Jason let out an inaudible whine and closed his eyes slowly counting to 10. This was going to be as hard as he originally thought it was going to be.

"S'okay, Pix. Just get up so we can have the wine and watch the film."

Awkwardly smiling at Jason, Marinette detangled her legs and climbed over him to get settled next to him again. Carefully she took the wine bottle off him to open and poured some into the glasses he held out for her. After putting the bottle on her bedside table, she turned her attention back to Jason and the film.

"Now we can relax properly. Guessing you're not ready to vent about Bruce yet."

"Nah, not really. You're making an effort to cheer me up and distract me so don't want to bring the evening down. And don't look at me like that! This is perfect Pix, a much better way to relax. If I wanted to vent I'd go punch and shoot scum. Do *you* want to vent about your latest commission though?"

She looked guiltily at him, "Do you mind?"

Jason looked softly at her and smiled, "Go ahead Pix."

Suddenly it was like a dam had opened and she was telling him about the ridiculous demands expected of her. The issues with the material. How her sewing machine was not playing ball and likely needed a service or replacement part soon.

Jason gazed fondly at his friend (crush) nattering animatedly away. With wine in hand he relished the soft warmth of the room. She was right about the wine helping to relax, the film long forgotten as they chatted away enjoying the safe space she had created under the glow of the fairy lights.

It was only when the film had stopped that they were drawn out of their discussions.

"Oh! We kinda missed that film huh?"

"Yup, Pix we did. And we've finished that bottle as well."

"I'll set another film up, did you want to change and do your ablutions while I set it up."

"Change?" Jason squawked out.

Marinette turned to glare at him. "Yeah, change. You're not sleeping in my bed in jeans Jay. So go change. I'll sort myself in a minute too."

Jason reluctantly left to go to the bathroom and quickly changed. After cleaning his teeth he splashed cold water in his face. He had managed so far. He'd resisted brushing her hair out her face. He'd resisted pulling her close as she leant on his shoulder as she laughed. He resisted kissing her when she pouted when telling her story.

He could do this.

As he returned Marinette slipped out telling him to sort the bed out for them to lie down for the next film. The stars had long since come out and Jason begrudgingly agreed that there was a high chance that they 'could' fall asleep in the next one. (Okay, it was a low chance given his nightly antics and her insomnia but he'd play along with her belief.)

Jason had settled, still sitting in the bed but under covers this time as Marinette re-emerged.

She was trying to kill him.

He had played nice wearing a vest and joggers. She, Marinette, had dressed to kill in just an oversized T-Shirt that hung off her shoulder and brushed the tops of her thighs.

Jason squeezed his hands into fists as she carefully this time manoeuvred around the room, showing off her long legs. Apparently she had a late growth spurt and finally took more after her father than her mother now. Breaking his gaze from her legs as she moved round the other side of the bed he sent her a tight smile as she climbed in next to him.

"You all set for the next film?"

"mm hmm"

As she lent forward to press play, Jason darted his eyes to the ceiling. Marinette turned around to see Jason staring up and laughed.

"Jay, that's sweet and all but I do have sleep shorts on. You'd not see my underwear. Plus you're my friend. I trust you."

"You couldn't have warned me!"

"Nah, seeing your reaction was funny. Now shhh film time."

Sitting back, Marinette grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders and smoothed the duvet down before resting her head against Jason's shoulder snuggling into his arm. She smiled and sighed in contentment as she lost herself in the film.

Jason's blue screened for a moment as his friend cuddled into his arm. He knew she often did this on the couch but still having her do this in bed, in her pajamas, was another matter. He should have been better prepared. He had thought his mission earlier was a challenge. It had now reached monumental difficulty. Feeling her warm breath dance across his arm. Clear smell of her fading perfume. Hearing her slight murmurs to herself as she focused on the plot playing out before them. It took a ridiculous amount of his strength to remain relaxed and try to focus on the film.

He almost lost it as Marinette drowsily started to slowly stroke the bare skin of his arm.

"Come on Pix, let's lay down. You're hardly awake currently. I'll turn the film off for us."

".. mmm.. no... I'm.. I'm awake..you're so hot… *yawn* nice and safe... and toasty… I .. I can..*yawwwwn* fin..esh fim.."

Jason choked when said she was hot until he realised that she meant he was warm. Carefully he extracted his arm from her octopus grip and got her lying down, before turning the film off. He left one set of fairy lights on as knew Mariette disliked sleeping in the dark.

Taking a moment to steal himself, Jason watched as Marinette buried herself deeper into the blankets and duvet. He had checked whether it'd be ok to top and tail the bed earlier, Marinette's glare at the suggestion and the insults about his 'big stinking smelly gross' feet being near her face pushed that option out the window pretty quickly. Especially with some of the creative insults thrown in as well.

Despite all his nerves feeling like they were on fire, Jason slowly crawled back in the bed to settle. The soft lighting, the quiet sound of Marinette breathing, the warmth embracing him, Jason suddenly felt all his energy escape. Forcing himself to relax was tiring. Holding himself back was exhausting. The week had been draining. Surprisingly quickly Jason succumbed to sleep.

…………

Jason woke to light filtering into the room. He felt unusually well rested and content. A warm fuzzy happy feeling that he'd not felt in such a long time flowed through him. Sighing he went to turn only to find that he couldn't move.

Sluggish memories and realisations started to speed up and come to the forefront of his mind. That he was sleeping in Marinette's bed. Next…. Under!?!?! Marinette.

It appeared that Marinette had somehow in the night starfished face down across the bed and now her face was resting across his chest. Her hair was a bird's nest of tangles cascading down to his arm. One hand had a razor clam of a grip on the bottom of his shirt unwilling to let go. One leg was tangled up with his.

It would have been a surprise and embarrassing if he hadn't witnessed putting Marinette to bed as a tiny curled up ball to discover her in the morning sprawled out across the bed in a similar fashion to this. Except this time he was semi pinned down by her. He would say the only embarrassment was that he'd forgotten she got like this. And no other reason at all.

As Marinette still slept, Jason's brain slowly woke more and more. He took on his sleeping friend and admired the peace that was on her face. The lack of stress that graced her features. She was gorgeous normally but at this moment she looked ethereal. Jason basked in the morning warmth slowly threading his fingers through her hair to detangle the large knots. He could get used to this. Too used to this. The comfort. The simplicity. The domestic-ness of it all.

Lost in his own thoughts he didn't notice Marinette stir and blearily looked at him with one eye open.

"Mor'n Jay," a croaked voice drew his attention back to his friend lying across his chest, "Di'ja sleep k?"

"Yeah, Pix," came his soft reply, "best night sleep in a while. I understand why you had the lumpy stone of a couch now. You spent all your cash on this cloud of a bed. How did you sleep?"

She turned her face completely into his chest and he felt her chuckle against him before shifting herself so she was now lying curled up next to him, her face closer to his as she rested against his shoulder.

"Best in ages. No nightmares. At all. Never get nightmares when next to you. You make the cloud bed perfect, Should get you to stay in it forever."

Jason turned to gawk at the woman whose eyes remained closed as curled up against him, "Pix, you can't just say things like that!"

"What? Wha'ja mean? What did I say?"

"Saying that I made your bed perfect. That you want me to stay here forever. It gives the whole wrong impression."

"But I meant it, Jay. Last night I slept all the way through because of you. I love being with you. So why wouldn't I want you around?"

Slowly opening her eyes Marinette leant forward and up to kiss his chin before giggling as she moved away.

"Pix, you're killing me here."

"With what weapon? We're in bed and your weapons are next to you, not me…. And why would I kill you?"

Twisting so he could face her properly, Jason gazed as his semi drowsy friend in soft whispered tones said.

“By making it hard not to ruin our friendship. I love what we have now and I don’t want to lose it.”

“What do you mean? You won’t ruin our friendship. We’ve been through too much for it to be ruined.”

“By doing something stupid.”

“Stupid?”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him in puzzlement, more awake than moments earlier. She pursed her lips trying to figure out what he was trying to say was stupid, unconciously drifting closer to him.

“Yeah, something really stupid.”

“Oh… the only thing really to ruin our friendship would be to leave or betray me… you’re not going to be that stupid are you?”

“No, I don’t want to leave you. Ever really. Being like this is perfect. I… I love being with you… you’re my best friend, just don’t tell Roy that.”

Marinetre softly smiling at Jason, “Ok. I won’t. This is almost perfect, but… did you know what would make it better?”

With their foreheads now touching, in the warmth of the blankets and duvets and filtered light pouring in the window, Jason shook his head. He couldn't figure out what she meant to be better. The moment felt like a perfect dream to him.

"No. What would make this better?"

"If you kissed me."

It took a few seconds for Jason's brain to process the words before it was like the dam had burst, all the restraint he'd used in the last 12 hours, for the last number of months, collapsed. Jason leant forward capturing Marinette's lips with his own.

One of her hands reached up and tangled into his hair as the other rested on his chest. His wrapped around her waist pulling her closer. They lost themselves in the moment as they deepened the kiss while pouring their emotions into it, showing their feelings they have been too afraid to say out loud.

Eventually, they parted breathing heavily. Marinette gave a breathy chuckle.

"Finally."

"Huh?"

"It only took you the whole night, then to be told to do that."

"What?!"

Jason's brain struggled to work out what Marinette was saying. His current focus was more on the sensation of holding Marinette so close. His lips still tingled from her kissing her. It was only because her hand moved to cradle his cheek and she kissed his nose that his attention was drawn back to her.

"Jay, you sweet Doofus, I've been flirting with you for months. You've not noticed what's so ever so drastic measures needed to be taken."

"You've been flirting with me???"

"Yes. Even Roy noticed, he helped me with this."

"You mean this was planned?!?"

"Yup. Completely planned. And Roy even helped me get rid of the couch."

"You planned a 'there's only one bed' situation? Sneaky Pix, that's sneaky."

"Worked didn't it. Plus you love the cliche troupes. Don't deny it."

Jason leaned in close to Marinette, a breath away from her.

"Can't deny it, but we've got months of idiocy to catch up on."

With that Marinette closed the gap to capture his lips. They had the rest of the day to work out and discuss how they felt, right now, right now was for kissing and cuddling in bed. Who knew all that together she just needed to replace her couch.

#maribat #maribat au #dc x mlb #ml x dc #dc x ml #mlb x dc #jason x marinette #marinette x jason #jasonette #one bed #fluff writing

[brattata]

Windows

Crossposted from my AO3 account, if it seems familiar. Mature content below, so minors please DNI!

Joseph's been putting a lot of work into your real estate business, and it's really starting to pay off. You wanted to congratulate him by christening his fancy new desk in his fancy new office, but things don't go according to your plan.

Joseph Joestar x AFAB reader (no female pronouns used, but reader wears feminine clothing)

CW: Semi-public sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, creampie, Joseph says “cunt” one (1) time 

“It’s impressive,” you admit, leaning in for an almost-kiss.

Instead of closing the distance, Joseph grabs your hands and pulls you up from the couch excitedly, leading you over to the far wall. “You haven’t seen the best part yet,” he teases. “Watch this.”

He reaches up to press a subtly disguised switch, and it becomes apparent that the “wall” is actually a massive floor-to-ceiling window, slowly revealed from behind the dark wood paneling.

“Wow,” you whisper, pressing your hand to the cool glass. Beyond it is the Manhattan skyline, breathtaking from 15 stories up. The brightness of the city obscures most of the stars, but the thousands of twinkling lights and glowing windows are beautiful in their own way. There are people behind some of those windows, you think – working late, or maybe enjoying time with their families. Maybe taking in the view with the person they love most, the way you are now.

Joseph hums a kiss into your hair, wrapping his arms around you from behind. His comforting weight against your back and impish smile reflected in the glass make you feel so warm inside, your heart could burst.

Until one of his hands slips beneath your skirt.

“JoJo!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist. “What are you doing?”

“Oh come on, don’t be coy!” he laughs. “The champagne, the perfume…that skirt, with no nylons underneath.” His smirk is undeniably sexy, but that only makes you more annoyed. “You didn’t come here for a tour of the new office.”

“No, I wanted to celebrate with you!” You pause. “In your new chair, or maybe on top of your new desk. But not in front of a window, Joseph!”

“Why not?” he asks, almost sounding genuinely perplexed.

“Someone could see!”

“Who?” he laughs again. “It’s late. No one’s watching. Even if they were, they would be too far away to see our faces.” Now he’s trailing kisses down the back of your neck, shameless as ever in exploiting your weaknesses. “And besides, I think you like an audience.”

“I-JoJo, what-,” you splutter, scandalized and yet burning at his accusation.

“I noticed last summer at Grandma Erina’s,” he replies, letting his lips brush against your nape. “When Smokey walked in on us. You remember, right?”

How could you forget? Even now, the memory has your insides twisting with a complicated emotion you can’t quite place. Like embarrassment but sharper, hotter. Exciting.

“I’d never seen you make that face before. Not to mention the way you held onto me…and well, held onto me.” Joseph pauses from tormenting your neck to flash you a dirty little grin. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

“O-oh, Joseph, I’m. I don’t know,” you trail off. Immediately his chin comes to rest on top of your head, one arm draped around your shoulders and the other curling soothingly around your waist.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby,” he murmurs. “I only want to make you feel good.”

You take a moment, studying your feelings and Joseph’s gentle (but hopeful) expression. Then you unfasten your skirt.

Immediately Joseph lets go of you with a little whoop and a fist pump before tearing into his shirt and tie.

“God, you’re lucky you’re handsome,” you scold him good-naturedly, giggling a bit at his childishness. You kick the skirt away, opting to leave your kitten heels on. Next comes your blouse, which you unbutton slowly for Joseph’s benefit. His shirt is gone, along with his belt. He palms himself lazily over unbuttoned pants, watching your fingers work.

“Don’t forget heroic, a genius, and—“ his bragging is cut short by a low whistle as your bra is revealed, a delicate little number formed of translucent lace. Once you let the blouse fall he can fully appreciate the matching panties, cupping your ass nicely but leaving very little to the imagination. “Baby, you did come dressed to celebrate.”

When you reach back to undo the bra clasp Joseph stops you, lips back on your neck and hands rubbing your shoulders. Instead you tug the cups down until your breasts spill out, earning you a hissed “Niiice” before his hands quickly replace the lace. The contrast is delicious – warm, calloused flesh on one side, smooth and cool metal on the other. Both options have your nipples pebbling almost instantly, Joseph kneading your tits with reverence as if this is a rare treat rather than something he gets to do almost every day.

It is kind of a special occasion.

Before long his right hand drifts down your stomach, slipping deftly into your underwear. You’re so slick he can barely keep a finger on your clit, forcing a whine from you and a low groan from him. “Holy shit, you’re wet! The thought of putting on a show for some strangers gets you this worked up?”

“N-no, I’m excited for you, JoJo,” you coo, hips undulating along with his fingers. “It feels so good when you touch me.”

“Hmm, seems like I barely need to touch you at all,” he replies, back to his smug grin. With little warning he slips one finger inside you, then two, then three. There’s the tiniest sting, but you take them all easily. “See? You’re already ready for me.” It’s hard to argue when his strong, thick fingers are knuckle deep inside you and your pussy is still aching for more. “Since you want it so badly, guess it’s time to stop playing around and have some real fun.” The fingers are gone. “Bend over, baby.”

With a shaky sigh you do as you’re told, bracing your hands against the window and sliding your legs apart. You can’t resist wiggling your hips a little, asking for a playful swat from Joseph’s right hand. His left hand is suddenly gripping your ass, thumb spreading your lower lips open even wider and sweeping the gusset of your panties aside. You hear a zipper and rustling fabric, but instead of his cock, it’s a puff of warm air that caresses your pussy, followed by a firm stroke of his tongue.

“Oh, fuck!” you wail, leaning your forehead against the glass.

“Not until you beg for it, my love,” Joseph chuckles. “I can eat this sweet pussy all night! Make you come until you’re crying for my cock!”

“JoJo!” you moan, desperately. You want to ask what’s gotten into him, but he’s sucking hard on your clit and you can barely hold a thought. He’s always been vocal during sex, but his babbling is usually sweet, not this demanding or…filthy. You love your adorably enthusiastic Joseph, but this version is also thrilling, and it makes you wonder if you’re not the only one excited by imagining eyes on the other side of the window. He’s slurping your pussy so loudly you know it’s deliberate, groaning like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted.

And for another reason, you realize, when you look at your reflections and see him vigorously stroking his cock. It’s the sight that carries you over the edge: Joseph kneeling with his face buried between your legs, so turned on that he can’t help but touch himself. You come with a strangled squeal, and Joseph gives your clit an affectionate peck as if to say “good job.” He’s gripping the base of his cock so hard it looks painful.

“Fuck me, JoJo,” you gasp. “Please, please fuck me.”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You rest for a bit against the window while Joseph stands and adjusts his grip on your hips. Now there are two thumbs spreading you open completely, which you might protest as embarrassing if you weren’t turned on beyond all pretense. You suck in a breath when the head of his cock finally kisses your opening, only for him to stop before taking the plunge.

“Look at that. It’s show time after all.” Blearily, you lift your head to see a silhouette in one of the windows in the office building across from you. Whoever it is has dimmed their lights so you can’t see much other than a vague shape, but it’s easy to imagine a strange pair of eyes staring into yours as Joseph sinks deep with one thrust.

The sudden stretch and the arousal have you coming again, softly this time, an aftershock of the pleasure you got from Joseph’s tongue. He leans his weight against your ass and holds still, luxuriating in the way you ripple around him, like you want him even deeper. “Fuck, this is good! We should’ve done this sooner!”

“Yeah,” you agree dreamily, grinding back against Joseph while you wait for him to move. He pulls back and thrusts hard, making your palms squeak against the glass.

“Maybe-“ he grunts, “maybe we should try it again on Monday morning. I’ll brace you against the doorway of my office, just like this, and we can show everyone that sexy face you’re making. Show them how hard I make you come.”

“But I don’t want them to see,” you murmur back. “Those things, I only want to show them to you, JoJo.”

“S-shit,” he gasps. “Fuck, you’re so hot. So beautiful!” He has a hand around your breast again, lips, tongue, and teeth trailing across your neck and shoulders just the way you like. He presses his face next to yours and gently tilts your chin up, making you look out the window again. “It looks like our new friend agrees.”

Across from you, the silhouette’s arm is moving back and forth. You can’t really see what’s happening, but you know.

“You’re so sexy, you’ve got him jerking off in the middle of his office,” Joseph laughs breathily. He slips two fingers between your parted lips, stroking your tongue in time with his thrusts. “Who could blame him? Watching those gorgeous tits bouncing above that pretty lace. Imagining his cock is the one pounding out your hot little cunt.”

You stiffen up a bit at the vulgarity and Joseph kisses your temple, asking with his eyes if what he said was okay. “Yes, yes, fuck,” you moan around his fingers, bracing against the glass to shove yourself into his cock, demanding deeper, harder, more. Joseph tilts his head to kiss you hungrily. His wet fingers go straight to your clit where they rub and pinch until you’re whimpering into his mouth, near tears.

“He can’t even hear how wet you are,” Joseph continues. “So wet you’re dripping all over the nice new carpet.”

You laugh a little at that. “As if you’re not desperate to make an even bigger mess, JoJo,” you tease back, lips touching as you pant into each other’s mouths. “Will you clean me up, baby? After you make a mess of me?”

“Fuck yes,” Joseph groans. “I’ll do anything, anything!”

“Come for me. Come inside me. I need it so badly, JoJo.” Whether it’s a plea or a command, Joseph can’t help but obey. He presses his face between your shoulder blades and one lightly Hamon-charged fingertip to your clit, and you’re thrown off the cliff of a breathless, whiteout orgasm. It feels like every muscle in your body is clenching for Joseph’s cock. He’s scorching hot and huge inside you as he fills you up, and you wring him for every last drop. He slowly pulls out and helps you right yourself, turning your back to the window as he leans down for a kiss.

“That was amazing. I love you.” Before you can return the words he’s already sinking to his knees, nudging your legs apart so he can fit between them.

“Joseph, I’m tired,” you demur, stroking his sweaty bangs away from his forehead.

“But I still need to clean up,” he insists. When he grins at you like that, you can’t say no. “I’ll go slow, baby, I promise.”

He starts with your inner thighs, looking very pleased with himself when he gets a few giggles out of you from the ticklish sensation. When his mouth finally reaches your center it is slow and soothing. He’s not trying to force another orgasm from you – just enjoying you, caring for you, showing his love. You don’t come by the time he’s finished, but you don’t need to. You just want him to hold you, so he does.

When you reach the couch he plops down on it, keeping you cradled in his lap. He takes off both of your shoes and stretches out on his back (as much as he can), draping you across his front. He’s warm, and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your cheek, and even though you know you’re going to be ungodly sore tomorrow, right now everything feels perfect.

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest.

“Anytime, baby,” he chuckles warmly. He smiles up at you, looking happy but not as content as you feel.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, a little worried. “It was good for you, wasn't it? Not…weird?”

“Of course, it was great for me! Don’t look at me like that!” He reaches for your cheek, rubbing at the corner of your frown. “I was just, ah,” he clears his throat, adjusting your position so that you’re more beside him than on top of him. On the way down, your leg brushes what is unmistakably a semi-erection already straining against his briefs. “I was just thinking about what you said earlier, about ‘celebrating’ on my desk.”

“Absolutely not,” you groan, nuzzling against his shoulder, eyes already closed.

“Your next line is: ‘Maybe tomorrow, JoJo!’”

“Nice try.”

#ao3 crosspost #jjba x reader #jjba x reader smut #joseph joestar x reader #joseph joestar x reader smut #these tags are kinda dry but idk what else to say :/ #my writing tag

[acourtofbooksandfantasy]

Starfall - Azriel x fem! Reader

Disclaimer: this is my first piece I’ve ever published. I’m not taking requests but would be open to ideas for new things to write! Let me know what you think. I had this idea the other day and couldn’t stop thinking about it until I wrote it down. I also originally named the main fem! character but decided to make it Y/N at the last minute, so if her name is in there then whoops! Either way, enjoy xx

Starfall. The most beautiful night in Prythian. Souls traveling to a far off place, leaving a blinding beauty in their wake. The Night Court prepared for weeks to welcome their passage.

Each member of the Inner Circle enjoyed this day, but Azriel often used this day to mourn. And to hope. Each year, he would wish upon those flying glimmers of starlight. Praying. Hoping. One day, he would find his mate.

In the past, he used the evening to drink and pray and hope that Mor would realize she was his mate. But when she and Emerie confirmed their mating bond two years prior, Azriel simply used this evening to wish upon the stars for someone of his very own.

This year was not any different, until two months before when a secret Illyrian camp was raided and a young woman was found, wingless. She was battered and bruised, terrified of any male who came near her. Cassian had brought her back to the House of Wind with Feyre’s help, to give her a place to recover and rest.

Over the coming weeks, she revealed to Mor and Amren that her name was Y/N, and that she had been sold to the foul Illyrians at a high price to help support her family. She was used for work, cleaning and cooking, and kept in a small room. She revealed her wings were taken after a visit where Rhysand and Cassian required Devlon to start training all Illyrian females. As she told the story, even Amren shed a tear.

Cassian and Azriel were introduced to Y/N, along with Nesta, to help train her. Even without wings, Feyre believed it would do her much good to know how to protect herself. And Y/N vowed she would never again let someone lay hands on her unless she asked. Over the weeks, Cassian and Azriel coached from the sidelines as Nesta and Mor demonstrated and helped, since Y/N still feared the males being too close. Each day she grew a little stronger, and became more confident. It became evident just how much the training was helping her mentally when she agreed to come out for a night at Rita’s with the Inner Circle. Much to Morrigan’s delight, as she would finally have a friend to dance with who wouldn’t make inappropriate comments like Cass.

Azriel couldn’t help but watch from across the bar as Mor and Y/N jumped and spun, without a care in the world. However, he became alarmed as he noticed two dark males approaching her from behind. Each one reached to grab her arms, and he growled as he flew from his chair. He pushed the men back, scooping Y/N into his arms and winnowing both her and Mor to the back of the bar where he knew no one would be. When he put her down, Y/N stared at him breathlessly. She couldn’t believe it, but when he came out of nowhere to rescue them, she hadn’t felt fear. In fact, she felt a strange pull in her stomach. Deep, aching. Longing. Like, she had known him before, in another time perhaps.

The mating bond.

It caused her to step back as it snapped into place.

But Azriel didn’t seem to notice a thing.

“Are you alright?” He asked, gently brushing a hand to her elbow as she stood, star struck.

“Yes. I’m fine….thank you.” She replied after a few awkward seconds.

Mor gave her a puzzling look, “Uh…okay you two let’s go home. Az…”

He grabbed their hands and winnowed them back to their home.

That night, Y/N sat alone in her room, feeling a pull towards the shadowsinger’s room. She knew she should probably stay, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she went. Her curiosity got the best of her, and all of a sudden she was stood outside his bedroom. One hand ready to knock, but unsure of what she would say. She stood there nervously until the door cracked open, and Azriel popped his head out into the hall. He was only wearing some trousers, his hair disheveled from the slumber he’d just awoken from.

“ Y/N. Is there…something wrong?” He asked nervously.

“I…I…” Y/N scrambled for a reason to be in front of his door, “I sometimes have nightmares. I can’t fall asleep because I’m afraid of having a terrible dream.”

“Oh. I see.” Azriel said.

Y/N stood there, unsure of what to do next, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sor-“

But before she could finish her thought, he grabbed her wrist gently and brought her inside.

“You can stay for a little while if you’d like,” Azriel started, “I have nightmares too. About my hands. And my mother. We can watch out for each other. And I can take you back to your room when you’re ready. You take the bed, I can sleep here.” He gestures to the small couch at the foot of his bed.

“Azriel I don’t want to take your bed.” Y/N stated, feeling guilty about coming in the first place.

“I insist.” Azriel gestured to the bed.

She sat down on the edge, as he laid himself on the couch that was barely big enough for him and his enormous wings. Even with them all tucked in, he nearly spilled out the sides of the couch.

She laid down as well, waiting for slumber to set in, but it didn’t, because she could only focus on the tug from her to him.

Close to an hour had passed, when finally a whisper emerged from the quiet. “Az?” Y/N lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Yes?” Azriel replied timidly.

“Can you…can you come up here?” Y/N asked rather calmly.

Silence filled the room, before the tall and dark Illyrian stood from the couch, slowly setting himself down on the other side of the bed. He lay flat on his back as well, as if trying to avoid touching her at all costs.

She reached across the bed and found his hand, interlocking her fingers in his. She rubbed her thumb along the lines of his scars.

“Thank you. For rescuing me. Maybe I can help rescue you from your nightmares?” Y/N said.

Azriel smiled at the ceiling in the dark, “Perhaps.”

________________________________________

Each of the girls from the Inner Circle had gone to the seamstress weeks prior to the event to have gowns made for the celebration. Each of the girls selected a gown some shade of Night Court black, except for Y/N. Feyre and the rest of the Night Court females found a gorgeous silver silk fabric, embedded with tiny crystals. When held up to the light, the fabric twinkled like a sea of stars.

“ Y/N! Since you are our special guest for the celebration, you should have a dress made from this!” Mor shouted, shoving a pile of the fabric into Y/N’s arms.

Y/N stared, mouth wide open, “I’m not sure, I don’t want to…”

Feyre stopped her by gentle placing a hand on her shoulder. “You are not a burden, and no one will be upset if you outshine every one of us. You deserve to have a night as fabulous as you are after all you’ve endured.”

Y/N smirked and nodded. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll have a dress made from this!”

________________________________________

The males waited, rather impatiently, in the front hall at the bottom of the staircase.

“You all have been getting ready since 10 o’clock this morning, you can’t SERIOUSLY still be primping can you??” Cassian grumbled as he leaned back on the wall.

Morrigan exited her room where they had all been drinking, giggling, and preparing for the evening. “You clearly have no understanding of what getting ready means to females, “ she said as she rolled her eyes at the general.

One by one, each of the girls stepped out. Feyre and Y/N were the last left inside the room. “You look lovely, Y/N. I’m so glad you’ve become one of our best friends.” Feyre gave Y/N a small squeeze. Y/N smiled, still appearing somewhat nervous for this evening.

Feyre studied her face closely, “He will think you are the most magnificent creature in the room tonight,” she whispered with a wink.

All the breath left Y/N’s lungs as she thought of the spymaster.

Mate.

Mate.

Mate.

Her heart pounded as Feyre gave her hand a quick squeeze before heading to the staircase. “Come along, Y/N. Let’s show them what you’ve got.”

________________________________________

His breath caught in the back of his throat at the sight of her at the top of the staircase.

The floor length gown had a deep v down the front, with two sheer straps that wrapped over her shoulders and crossed in the back. The silky fabric flowed as she took each step. She shimmered like starlight, and as the shimmering fabric moved it made it as thought Y/N herself was glowing in the night.

“Holy shit.” Cassian mumbled under his breath. Nesta elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to go into a coughing fit.

As Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, everyone stopped what they were doing.

“Well, shall we?” Rhysand asked with a playful grin, simultaneously locking arms with his mate and nudging his spymaster brother towards the girl in the sparkling gown.

Azriel and Y/N stood for a moment. Y/N’s eyes remained focused on her feet, and Azriel watched as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In that moment, when she looked up and locked eyes with him, he felt everything. A rushing of magic, or spirit, or something, coursed through his veins.

“Mate,” he said, so softly that only she could hear.

They remained frozen in time, stood there, taking in one another. As if their souls needed time to catch up on all the time they had been apart.

Azriel extended a hand to her, and their hands intertwined as they left the front hall. As they walked, Azriel leaned in and whispered to his mate, “You know, it might be hard to keep my hands off of you tonight.” Y/N peered up at him through her thick eyelashes. “You are quick to forget, I have not accepted the bond yet,” she replied with a smirk.

“You wound me, my love,” he stated with a look of bewilderment and shock. It took everything in him not to scoop her into his arms and winnow back to his room, to have his way with her right then and there.

________________________________________

They danced most of the night. So much so, that Cassian made several jokes about how he’d never seen his brother dance that much in their entire lives. It didn’t bother Y/N or Azriel one bit.

The couple stopped to sit and watch as the souls began to descend across the sky, traveling to wherever they belong. Azriel couldn’t help but watch his mate as she stared into the sky, absolutely enamored with her.

Y/N could feel the sting of his stare on her cheek. She turned to him, and reached across the table, her hand closed holding an object tightly inside. “I’d like to give you something,” she smiled. Azriel gave her a perplexed look, opening her hands to find a macaron.

He looked at the pastry, then his mate, and back to the pastry. “Are…are you certain?”

“I’ve never been more certain in my life.” Y/N replied confidently.

Azriel forced himself to savor every bite of the macaron, when really he wanted to shove the whole thing into his mouth so he could whisk her away from the party. Once he was finally finished, he stood, gesturing for Y/N to take his hand.

Cassian shouted from across the dance floor, “Hey brother!! Don’t be too loud tonight, SOME of us need our beauty rest!!” Nodding his head towards Rhysand. Feyre smacked him across the back of his head and Rhysand laughed. Azriel let out a low growl, but Y/N placed her hand on his lower back and stood on her tip toes to whisper in his ear.

“Take me home, shadowsinger.”

And they winnowed away into the night, as fast as the spirits had traveled across the midnight sky.

#azriel x y/n #azriel x reader #illyrian #rhys x feyre #high lady feyre #feyre x rhysand #sjmaas #sarah j maas #acomaf #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acosf #acowar #acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #shadowsinger #Azriel x fem! #starfall

[ahtsumu]

vignettes from a simple and good life ; miya osamu

pairing: miya osamu x f!reader

synopsis: a year in review.

tag(s): fluff ; warning(s): profanity, suggestive themes, kinda bad but i tried LOL ; wc: 1.3k

a/n: happy birthday to @bbytetsu​ ​! ik i said i wouldn’t write anything but i’m a woman of my own word. also sorry this isn’t geto LOL. anyway this is kinda different from anything i’ve ever done but i hope you like it! love u

1.

he walks past you and suddenly the world’s aflame.

“um,” you stutter, turning around with wide eyes. “excuse me?”

cool grey irises hold your gaze expectantly.

he’s gorgeous.

“i–” you falter. there’s no way you can describe the feeling that made you turn around. the gravitational pull that sometimes occurs between strangers. perhaps the clever tugging of two red strings. separate melodies that converge at whim on a concord. it’s all so abstract, but that’s what you’re good at.

to your surprise, he just smiles. “same.”

2.

learning miya osamu is like learning to whistle: either you get it or you don’t.

you get it.

you get that he’s not at all the serious, stony-faced man he makes himself out as. that he’s hot-headed and petty but doesn’t want to be. that just because he’s not laughing doesn’t mean he’s not amused.

miya osamu is the dead of night and all the mischief that happens during it.

3.

seven a.m. is too early. osamu isn’t sure how he used to get up even earlier for morning practice, but then he remembers that that was when he loved volleyball. either way, it’s seven a.m. and for some god-forsaken reason, miya osamu is going on a hike.

(god-forsaken is a bit dramatic. it’s not all that bad – he’s just grumpy in the morning. actually, to think of it, it’s not bad at all…)

“one cappuccino," he tells the barista. and then his eyes widen. smiling, he adds, “and a matcha latte, please.”

4.

it dawns upon you in the passenger seat of his car.

“what?” he asks, feeling your eyes on him as he drives.

“… nothing.”

“tell me,” he laughs, squeezing your hand with his free one.

“later,” you promise, feeling giddy with realization.

osamu hums, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

5.

the light from his laptop illuminates osamu’s darkened bedroom, bathing both of you in a subtle blue glow. osamu looks down at your body tucked into his side and smiles. he whispers your name. “are you awake?”

there’s no reply – just the steady stream of your shallow breaths.

maybe you hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the middle of your movie night but now that you have, osamu doesn’t have the heart to wake you. it’s late, it’s still a little cold outside at night, and it’s not like you’re busy tomorrow morning…

and maybe he doesn’t want you to go. carefully, osamu shifts around to make you both comfortable, slings an arm over your waist, and closes his eyes.

you wake up to the smell of breakfast and the swingy tune of twenties jazz.

6.

how do you know it’s love?

you tell him that he feels like a soft blanket and a rollercoaster ride at the same time.

he laughs and grabs your hand, placing it on his chest right where his heart is.

“that’s how i know,” he says.

7.

when you step into his apartment, the first thing you notice is the mouthwatering scent floating out of the kitchen.

“babe?” you call out.

a muffled “kitchen!” reaches your ears.

the kitchen’s a mess of ingredients. and in the middle of the mess is your boyfriend. lo and behold, miya osamu is yet again experimenting with new recipes for onigiri miya, mixing potential fillings in a large metal bowl, wearing the “kiss the chef” apron you bought him a while back. he takes a bite of the stuff on his spoon and looks up at the ceiling in thought. not a single muscle in his face twitches, probably because he isn’t sure what to think of it.

you clear your throat. “hey, you.”

smiling, osamu spins around. “hi, angel. can you taste this and tell me whatcha think?” he spoons out some more of the mixture in the bowl, holding it out for you to try.

“sure,” you say, and you ignore the spoon, pressing your lips to osamu’s for a kiss instead. when you pull away, you lick your lips and hum. “needs more salt.”

the grin on his face is absolutely charmed. “i thought so, too.”

8.

what most people get wrong about miya osamu is that he doesn’t talk much.

he does.

(“and i told her she had the wrong place, but that woman just wouldn’t leave,” he complains, pacing around your living room with so much force that you think you might have to check on the rug once he’s gone. “held up the entire line, too. so embarrassin’. and then she said she’d leave us a one-star review, which is ridiculous because it’s not like i could make her a burrito, right? jesus. so i told her to go fu–”

“babe,” you laugh, pulling him gently towards the sofa.

osamu sits down beside you and inhales deeply. “so i tell her to go fuck herself–” he pauses when your hand runs through his jet black hair. seconds later, you feel his firm body melt against your arms.

“well, go on,” you say with a giggle. “what happened after?”)

osamu just doesn’t talk to most people.

9.

and when he isn’t talking, he’s thinking.

“i saw something funny earlier. if you were a tortured poet,” you ask on the walk home, “what would be the cringey quote people know you for?”

osamu raises his brows and looks up at the sky. “hmm,” he says, grinning. the two of you continue walking as he mulls over your question. a few minutes later, he says, “take not my silence for a lack of thought. i am always thinking. i am haunted by the magnitude of thoughts i can never put to spoken word.”

you stop in your tracks. “that was actually good,” you say in disbelief. “what the hell? ‘magnitude’? seriously?”

he shrugs and slings an arm over your shoulder. “i’ve been readin’ lately. forbes said somethin’ about good leaders readin’ books’.”

“are you actually haunted, though? ‘cause you can always tal–”

“no,” osamu laughs. “i like my thoughts. and if i really like ‘em, i just say ‘em. it’s a simple and good life.”

10.

“you’re beautiful,” he breathes, pressing kisses up your neck.

the air’s thick with tension and want and he needs to be closer – he needs every inch of your bare skin touching his and even then that wouldn’t be close enough.

but it’d be a great place to start.

“god, you’re so beautiful.”

11.

when he steps into your bedroom, you don't even notice.

“hey,” osamu says, knocking on the door.

jumping in your seat, you whip your head around to face the intruder. “you scared me,” you sigh.

“i texted you this morning and it’s almost midnight now,” he says, frowning. “had me worried.” osamu walks to your desk and observes your work over your shoulder.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize, tilting your head back against his chest. “this is due soon and i lost track of time. i’ve been at this since midnight last night.”

osamu’s frown deepens. “what?” he spins you around in your chair and studies your face with disbelief. but seeing the bags under your eyes and frazzled hair, he suddenly completely believes you. of course you’d procrastinate for days and then work yourself to the bone.

his firm hands find your shoulders and squeeze. “take a break.”

“‘samu–”

“or at least let me give you a little massage.”

12.

“when i stopped you in the street,” you say, “what was going through your mind?”

osamu laughs, the light sound melting into the mellow atmosphere of the restaurant. “nothing. absolutely nothing.”

“how romantic.”

“for the first time in my life,” he says, grey eyes twinkling, “my head went silent.”

he raises his glass of wine and takes a sip.

#miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #miya osamu scenarios #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff

[technowoah]

THESEUS - a dsmp story ( DreamSMP x Queen!Reader)

CHAPTER FIVE : AND I REALIZE THREE FUNDAMENTAL TRUTHS AT THE EXACT SAME TIME.

Chapter Summary: You had gotten what you wanted, but at what cost? Nightmares ensue, and Dream’s true colors begin to show.

pairing: c!wilbur x queen!reader

an// IM BACK!! hopefully yall like this chaper cause this is the last one that I wrote in the past, Im writing chapter 6 rn so it might take a while. Also sorry for not posting requests I really wanted to get this chapter out there

⚠︎ swearing, dsmp spoliers(?), angst, arguing, smoking, explosions, gaslighting(?), not proofread.

Series Masterlist 

"Good job you two! This is all yours now.”

Dream had led you and Eret back to the castle, all of them still battered and bruised from the war they recently had. You had already taken off your armor and now you were wearing underneath your L'Manburg outfit that was torn and burnt showing some of your skin which was also burnt or cut. You had noticed on the way to the castle that Dream had kept on looking at the outfit that Eret and you had on with disgust, like a taunt.

You could finally relax in the huge castle that you apparently deserved because you and Eret had taken the first lives of the citizens of L'Manburg. In your heart you knew that L'Manburg was still a country. They all have two more lives and they will build the country up again with those two lives. You sighed then kept walking into the throne room. you looked at the two big thrones that sat next to each other. One for a king and one for a queen.

"Why are you standing there? Sit down! Relax!" Dream patted one of the thrones.

You and Eret had sat down on the thrones next to each other looking around the huge throne room and Dream smiling right in front of them. Once you both sat down you tried to sit up straight, but you wanted to slump down into the comfy, plush, velvet and gold chair. The two of them sat on velvet and gold thrones while in burnt and torn L'Manburg uniforms. It was a sight to see, and if someone didn't know the context of what just happened, this scene would've made sense to them.

"I'm happy you did this. You deserve all of this." Dream said while walking along the marble floor.

"It's beautiful, but I'm exhausted." You let your head fall to the side. You sighed wanting Dream to leave so you could finally get some rest.

"I bet."

"Eret are you okay?" You spoke up after Dream.

Eret had a look that you couldn't make out. He just stared off into space in his own mind. He shook his head after you called for him again.

"Yeah, yeah I am fine. I'm just thinking." Eret quickly responded.

"What are you thinking about?" Dream said in a monotone voice.

"If we did the right thing." Eret sighed.

You slowly nodded because you were thinking the exact same thing. They were traitors, you had built somewhat of a connection with those people you helped kill. And now what? you're living in a huge castle and apparently you "Shouldn't be feeling this way", Dream claimed.

"You two are overreacting. They are fine." Dream said bluntly while staring at them with a straight face.

That was a huge lie, their lives were taken today. They're not just “fine”.

"You two were never a part of that place anyways. This is your home! Why would you need to wear those hideous colors? They look bad on you, it's unflattering. There is no need to go back." Dream explained.

You hang your head not knowing what to say to the man, there wasn’t really anything to say but you spoke up hoping the words will come to you.

"I don't-"

"You don't have to say anything, it's okay. You're safe now. Did you get hurt?" Dream asked.

The bruises and scars said differently.

"Remember when I said that?" Dream pushed the question.

You rubbed a burn mark on your wrist and laughed a bit. "No! Actually I don't. We're safe now, but that doesn't mean we aren't hurt." You chuckled in disbelief.

"Well maybe if you listened to me you wouldn't be so anxious. If you listened you wouldn't have been so hesitant. You're safe." Dream said sternly.

"Maybe you're tired, Dream. We're all tired. Shall we go to bed?" Eret stood up and held out his hand to help you up from your seat.

You accepted his hand and started to follow Eret through the huge castle making your way through the huge, high ceiling halls. The three walked towards the king's and queen's room in the castle, Dream kept a slower pace and walked behind the two wanting to get one more word in before leaving the castle.

"If you two are ever in doubt just remember that you are on the right side of history." Dream said then turned around to leave the two alone.

You both stopped and turned around to see Dream’s back facing the both of you as he walked away. You and Eret eventually made it to your new bedrooms. There was a big door which held a huge room made for the both of them to sleep in and two separate rooms next to the bigger door which were made for one person. Eret and you stood in front of the bigger door staring at the intricate designs on the door not speaking to each other.

"So?" Eret laughed.

"So!" You exclaimed while chuckling.

"Are you okay sleeping in that huge room tonight?" Eret asked.

"I'm not totally comfortable with that, but it would be weird if we slept in the same bed. Don't get me wrong! You're a great friend, but-"

"Y/N/N stop! I'm okay with that too. I wasn't looking to sleep in the same bed. Yes we're married, but we're just staying friends, hey we might get a divorce later." Eret explained.

"If I do, we won't be king and queen anymore." You said softly to your husband.

"Is that what you want? To be "queen"?" Eret asked while putting air quotes around the word queen.

You paused for a moment then answered his question.

"I don't know where I'm supposed to be, Eret." You looked up at him sadly and he pulled you in for a hug. It took you everything you had to not cry into the L'Manburg uniform Eret was wearing. Today drained you mentally and physically, your hands were raw from shooting arrows, you had burn marks on your skin and your feet hurt from running through the kingdom. You weren’t sure about where you would go, because this didn't feel like your home.

"Let's go to bed and we'll talk in the morning. Rest on it because I'll happily divorce you so you can find your place in this huge kingdom." Eret laughed and let you out of his arms.

You chuckled and then let him go walking into what was supposed to be the queen's room and right next to it was the king's room which they both walked in after saying goodnight and closing their doors finally having time to themselves after a long day.

You finally took off the L'Manburg uniform and laid it on a velvet chair in the corner of the huge room. You stared at the uniform before going to the nearest closet and picking out something to wear for that night. The queen's room was basically the huge couple's room that you found before, but just with a smaller bed. There were still trinkets, jewelry and even clothes in the closet. you took a nightgown out of the closet and sat on the plush bed. You ended up laying down staring at the high ceiling thinking of the predicament Eret's question brought.

You finally retired for the night and crawled into bed and got under the soft covers. The window was open so a soft cool breeze was blowing through the room letting the curtains flow with the breeze. If you left you wouldn't have anywhere to go except back to L'Manburg, they would never let you back even if you tried. They probably hated your guts by now, so maybe divorcing wasn't a good idea. You had a set home here, you had food, clothes, and you weren't under attack every minute. you didn't have to watch your back for any enemies.

Your mind slowed down as you finally lulled yourself into a deep sleep forgetting the troubles in your mind for only a moment.

-------------------

The sunset fell over the horizon making it a gold, red color. It was beautiful. The trees were illuminated and the lakes had a certain glow to them. you could see mobs began to crawl out of the ground and caves, but you was safe up here.

You looked down and saw the familiar obsidian walls. It seemed like a faint memory, but in reality the walls were real. It was like you could feel the stone underneath your feet at this moment. you could see inside L'Manburg.

you saw Tubbo and Tommy laying in the grass talking to one another. you saw Fundy sleeping in the grass next to them. There were two new faces you had never seen before. It was a woman with short pink hair and another man with a shaved head. It might've been your mind putting people in your dreams to fill space. Then you saw Eret sitting by a small river letting his bare feet flow in the water. It was a peaceful scene.

"Beautiful sunset isn't it?" A voice showed up beside you.

It was Wilbur. He had his uniform on, it was clean like the war didn't even happen.

"It is really beautiful." You agreed watching the sun continue to lower over the trees.

"You know everything the sun touches is yours? It's all of ours. It just so happens that you can see the sunset and sunrise from L'Manburg. You can do anything as long as you see the sun rise and fall." Wilbur said, keeping his gaze soft at the sunset.

You hummed but stayed quiet admiring his words and the sunset.

"Let me tell you what I wish I'd known when I was young and dreamed of glory. You have no control who lives, who dies, who tells your story. After you took one of my lives away I understand now. You can't control other people and their motivations."

You hang your head in disappointment, but then Wilbur continued.

"But I know that we can win. I know that greatness lies in you, but remember from here on in that history has its eyes on you. History will forever have its eyes on you no matter what you do." Wilbur looked into your eyes as the sun set on the two of them the stars began to shine.

The light brown eyes Wilbur had turned darker because of the sunlight being gone. You looked out back at the mobs in the forest and the huge towers in the sky made the kingdoms members. you turned around and looked into L'Manburg. Or what was considered L'Manburg.

There was no one there anymore, instead of people there were huge amounts of TNT that filled the walls behind them. you could hear faint voices around them, people that you didn't know. It sounded like chaos. you whipped your head around to Wilbur who was dressed in a brown tattered trench coat, brown pants, and a white shirt instead of the L'Manburg uniform.

He had a cigarette in his mouth and matches in his hands. He smirked at you as the voices around you got louder and your head sounded like you were in the middle of a tornado. your head was buzzing as your eyes couldn't focus on Wilbur in front of you. It felt like these moments were happening right in front of your all at one time.

"You want to be a hero Tommy?"

"You know if I die, this country goes down with me."

"if respect is the only thing protecting you from a knife in the back, then respect is nothing, right?"

"Kill me, Phil. Phil, kill me, Phil kill me! Phil, stab me with the sword, murder me now, kill me! Look-"

"You know Y/N" Wilbur started next to you. He lit a match and turned around to L'Manburg which was now filled with TNT.

"Somethings. Somethings were never meant to be." He threw the match into the huge pile of TNT and all in a second the obsidian underneath your feet disappeared as you fell into the explosion beneath you.

-------------------------

"Fuck! Where am I?!" You shot up from your sleeping position in a cold sweat.

You frantically felt around the bed trying to convince yourself that you were physically at the castle in your bed. You finally caught your breath and laid back down in your bed finding yourself staring at the ceiling again. Even with the window open blowing cool air into the room, your skin still felt hot. You ended up tossing the covers off of you and making your way towards the entrance of the kingdom to get some air.

That dream was so much stuff in it you couldn't comprehend all of it. It was like Wilbur was there as if he was talking to you directly and it wasn't a dream and it made you second guess yourself and think that it may have not been a dream. You finally made it outside and sat on one of the steps that led people up into the kingdom. you sighed and breathed in the fresh air and it immediately relaxed your body and mind. You were alive, you were here and sadly Wilbur wasn't there. You closed your eyes and felt the breeze around you until you were startled by a figure beside you.

"You're up late. I thought you said you were mentally tired." Dream chuckled sitting beside you.

"I had a bad dream." You sighed.

"Hey don't take my name in vain like that" Dream laughed trying to bring up your mood.

Dream sighed and stood back up when he didn't get a response from his companion.

"Come one, let's go. Let's get your mind off of the one bad dream." Dream held his hand out, gesturing to you to take it.

You took his hand and then released it letting him lead the way to wherever the wind may take them. The dream is currently still stuck in your head. The voices from different people confused you and made your head spin.

"You want to be a hero Tommy?" What did that mean? Was someone threatening Tommy? Will someone threaten Tommy? You grew to care for that kid.

Who said "If I die, this country goes down with me"? What country. L'Manburg?

"If respect is the only thing protecting you from a knife in the back, then respect is nothing, right?" That one stumped you the most. you didn't even know if this was being spoken to you or to someone else. All of them except for the Tommy one.

Were they all even dreams? The one that haunted your mind the most was the one where someone was telling a man named Phil to kill them. Were you there for that moment? Did Phil kill the person? Who was Phil? All these thoughts and questions plagued your mind so much that your feet mindlessly carried you wherever Dream led you to.

"Here we are." Dream led You on top of a hill, a tall enough hill to see the main attraction. The place you missed the most, L'Manburg.

Tears started to form in your eyes and you tried blinking them away. All the moments of that dream appeared in your brain, but even stronger. you never felt these emotions before. Maybe L'Manburg was your home all along. you missed seeing Tubbo, Tommy, Eret and Fundy doing their own thing while your and Wilbur had a deep talk inside the van. you had spent weeks with them growing too attached to them and then ended up becoming a traitor.

"That place. You never belonged there. You're too good for them." Dream started and you stayed quiet watching the stars begin to disappear.

"Do you trust me?" Dream asked.

You stayed quiet not having the answer he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear you say that you trusted him when in reality you couldn’t, you weren't fully there yet, not anymore. 

"They lied to you. It's not your home." Dream continued on letting you listen and not talk.

"How did you know if someone said it was my home or not?" You asked, startled.

"I might've been keeping an eye on you. I wanted to make sure my flower was okay." Dream kept his gaze on L'Manburg.

"Stop calling me that." You sighed.

"I never started. This was the first time I said that. Who called you flower?" Dream suddenly got serious, staring at you.

you kept your sights on the obsidian walls, not sparing him a glance. The stars began to fade and the sun peeked over the horizon. As they stayed longer the sun rose over the walls of L'Manburg. You started to remember the words in the dream you had.

"You know everything the sun touches is yours? It's all of ours. It just so happens that you can see the sunset and sunrise from L'Manburg. You can do anything as long as you see the sun rise and fall."

L'Manburg stands for independence. Independence. That word kept ringing through your head like a mantra until a few voices below the hill and near the walls alerted you.

"HEY! Hey Wilbur! Give me back my shit!" Tommy yelled as he stomped after the older man.

"Wilbur get Tommy to stop shouting and give him his swords back please!" Fundy yelled trailing behind the two.

"No not until he learns not to go start stabbing shit!" Wilbur yelled back at the other two.

You missed that. you missed the bickering and the nonsense they all shared. you were upset that Tommy still hadn't learned his lesson and you wished you were there beside them at that moment.

Dream spoke up giving you a look you couldn’t quite get. "You are never allowed to step inside those walls again.

"What gives you the right to tell me what and what not to do? Who does that make you? Who do you think-"

"YOU ARE NEVER ALLOWED TO GO IN THOSE WALLS!" Dream yelled getting dangerously close to you.

You continued to stare at those blue eyes as the bright sun rose over the dark walls of L’Manburg. you didn't say anything but descended down the mountain alone with the sounds of Tommy, Fundy, and Wilbur bickering in the background, wishing you were there and not next to the man next to you who was staring at you angrily.

"I know what’s good for you! I know what's good for this country! Just trust me Y/N!" Dream yelled starting an argument

"Would you calm down! You came here to be all quiet and now you're yelling at me. You might want to be quiet before Wilbur hears you. Or do you want me to get him myself?" You yelled back, getting furious.

"Oh you wish! He doesn't care for you as much as me, Sapnap and George do! They agree as well!"

"Don't put words into his mouth!" You accused

"Oh! So if he cares so fucking much he would've help save you. And do you know what would happen if he saved you?! You would've died! I saved you! You were in a perfect situation and all you had to do is not complain! You're always overreacting." Dream ended with a huff and rolled his eyes while turning away..

you were speechless at this point. Overwhelming emotions consumed you. you couldn't believe you were overreacting. Maybe Wilbur wasn't everything you needed. you were overreacting, you were being selfish too. Dream was right. Dream walked over to you pulling you in a hug with L'Manburg was still in your sights.

"I did everything because I love you. You're too precious for them, you're not for them. They don't deserve you, you deserve someone who wants the best for you. A flower that needs a home and I'm here to give it to you." Dream softly explained.

Your eyes kept tearing up at the words and different emotions flowing through you. The sights on L'Manburg make your memories and questions come back. Where did you belong? But more importantly who was telling the truth?

Taglist: @hi-imuwu @k-l-a-w-s

#mcyt blurb #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff #mcyt angst #mcyt headcanons #dream smp x reader #dream x reader #wilbur soot x reader #c!wilbur x reader #c!wilbur soot x reader #c!dream x reader #mcyt writers #mcyt writing #dsmp fanfic #dream smp x you #dsmp spoilers #mcyt platonic #platonic mcyt x reader #lmanburg #wilbur soot headcanons #george not found x reader #sapnap x reader #eret x reader #lmanburg x reader #idk what to put here now so... #technowoah! #mjtings! #dream smp x y/n #dsmp x reader #dsmp headcanon

[keewriting]

Cove x MC - One Shot #3 (request)

[Read on google docs to insert your MC's name]

SPOILER WARNING: Don't read if you haven't finished Step 3!

Your insides bubbled with excitement as the car neared the cabin nestled deeply in the forest. The fresh blanket of snow was nearly blinding in the bright morning sun. You looked over to your driver, Cove, who wore a focused scowl.

Cove: We made it. I can’t believe we made it.

Y/N: Isn’t it gorgeous? There is so much SNOW.

Cove smiled at you with apprehension. This trip was a special one for many reasons. You were both freshly 19, so it was your first holiday together as independent adults. On that note, it was also your first holiday away from your families. You felt more down about that than Cove did. His main gripe was the snow, and it was unmistakable in his expression. Cove parked the car in the designated snowless space. You both stepped out, Cove with a little less enthusiasm than you did.

Cove: Snow, snow, and more snow.

The cabin was glowing and decked out in beautiful Christmas decorations. An intermingling of garland and lights hung across the roof. More garland and Christmas baubles framed the frosted windows. Oversized candy canes lined the pathway up to the porch. The wreath on the front door was massive. It hung proudly with a cute snowman proclaiming “Let it Snow!”

Cove: The owners didn’t hold back out here. It’s impressive.

Mesmerized, you could only nod. The online advertisement described the cabin as a pre-decorated Christmas escape. The images you showed Cove online were spectacular, but they did not do justice to the real thing.

Not wanting to stand outside any longer, Cove moved to the trunk and began unloading the luggage. Cove first extracted a suitcase that he claimed was not filled entirely with gifts for you. Your gift for Cove lived safely in your own suitcase, already wrapped and ready to go. He then removed both of your clothing-packed suitcases. You were proud of your ability to convince Cove to bring winter-appropriate clothing to this trip.

You helped Cove drag the luggage to the front door. The host messaged you the entrance code before your arrival. You punched it into the keypad which stood in place of a normal keyhole. 1-2-2-5. Clever.

You paused for dramatic effect, then slowly opened the door to reveal the inside. It looked like a Christmas bomb went off, in the best way possible. You squealed and bounded inside first, leaving Cove to the luggage.

The cabin was small and cozy. The kitchen and living area were open to each other. There was no bedroom, only a pull-out couch that sat comfortably in front of a fireplace. The only other doors in the cabin were for the bathroom and a storage closet.

The Christmas tree drew in your eyes first. You stepped closer to inspect it and inhale the sweet evergreen scent. The tree skirt was wide and inviting to colorful wrapped boxes. Cranberry and popcorn strands wrapped the tree from bottom to top. An assortment of ornaments littered the branches. You peered into one of the big red baubles and smiled at your distorted reflection. Finally, you tilted your head upwards to take in the tree topper— a stunning golden star.

You spun around excitedly to appreciate the rest of the decorations. There wasn’t a corner or window without winter greenery. Festive cushions sat on either side of the couch. Stockings hung by the chimney with care. A miniature village of joyful folk lived on a console table by the entrance. You turned to face Cove, who had just finished lugging everything inside by himself. He shut the door and smiled at you, happy that you were already having a magical time.

Y/N: I’m sorry, Cove. I got a little carried away with—

You halted your own sentence. Your gaze drew upward to the ceiling above Cove. A mistletoe hung delicately in the doorway. Cove followed your sight, twisting his head for a better view. You strode towards him before he could speak. You stared at him intently and wiggled one of your eyebrows. He met your gaze again, already blushing intensely.

Cove: It’s one of those...

His sentence trailed off as you stepped even closer and hushed him.

Y/N: Just kiss me, you big, beautiful dumbass.

Cove gulped hard. He gently took your face in his cold hands. You hoped the heat from your blushing face would warm them. He bent towards you as you stood on your toes to meet the kiss. Your lips danced together sweetly. You parted after a moment and stared into each other's eyes. Cove’s ocean blue eyes glistened and crinkled with the wide smile that spread across his face. You dove into a hug, wrapping your arms around his tall frame. He returned the hug enthusiastically.

Cove: Let’s get everything unpacked and unwind. I need to get that fireplace lit as soon as possible.

You agreed and helped Cove locate a suitable location for the luggage. He paused with his gift-laden suitcase in hand. Face lost in thought, Cove's grip tightened on the suitcase.

Y/N: Everything okay, Cove?

Cove: Today is Christmas Eve.

Y/N: That it is.

Cove: Presents go under the tree on Christmas Eve.

You chuckled at his observations, but allowed him to continue speaking. He brushed it off casually.

Cove: I want this to be special, Y/N. If I put the gifts under the tree now you’ll see them and start wondering what’s inside.

The concern in his tone was apparent. It was just like Cove to worry so deeply about something most people wouldn’t think about. You pondered for a moment.

Y/N: Wait for me to fall asleep tonight, then sneak them under the tree like the real Santa Claus.

Cove laughed at the implication of a “real” Santa Claus. You were glad to see his mood lighten. He hesitated, then set the suitcase behind the others, careful to conceal it. Perhaps in an attempt to block you from using your x-ray vision to see through the luggage. You thought it was ridiculous, but in the sweetest way. Satisfied with the arrangement, Cove slapped his hands against his legs.

Cove: Well, now what? What Christmas activities does Y/N have planned today?

Y/N: Let me just pull out my Christmas to-do list.

You spoke sarcastically with a twinkle in your eyes. Cove rolled his eyes lightheartedly and wandered to the fireplace. While he fiddled with it you sank heavily into the couch. With an enthused “Aha!” from Cove, the fireplace roared to life. It crackled pleasantly.

Cove turned around to smile at you sweetly. He patted the ground next to him. You got up and settled in next to Cove. He wrapped his arm around you and drew you in closer. You immediately appreciated the warmth from both Cove and the fireplace. You leaned on his shoulder.

You spent the rest of the morning watching Christmas movies and munching on candy canes. For lunch, you and Cove made macaroni and cheese. You both welcomed the gooey warmth of the meal.

Imbued with energy from lunch, you leapt from your seat and proclaimed.

Y/N: We have to go outside and enjoy the snow before the sun goes down.

Cove made a sour face and spoke quietly without looking up from his now empty bowl.

Cove: Enjoy, yeah…

You sighed and clenched your jaw, restraining yourself. You knew Cove would be difficult regarding the snow, but hoped the special occasion would nudge him along.

Y/N: Fine. I’ll go outside myself.

Cove’s head immediately snapped up and he stared at you with wide, pleading eyes. He didn’t expect you to so easily give up on convincing him. You maintained an unimpressed expression while he spoke.

Cove: No, Y/N. I’ll come with you. You know I love spending time with you no matter what.

Your expression cracked with a hint of a smile, but you regained control.

Y/N: You’re going to hate it. Don’t bother.

You weren’t sure why you were being so stubborn with this. Cove was willing to compromise, but you still felt annoyed that his initial reaction put a damper on your mood. You shut your eyes tightly, now irritated by your own childishness.

Cove stood up and firmly gripped your shoulders. He waited for you to look at him. You met his gaze and stuck out your bottom lip in a small pout.

Cove: Let’s go build a snowman. It’ll be like building a sandcastle.

You sighed, but couldn’t resist his comforting voice and adoring eyes.

Y/N: I’m going to have to bundle you in layers. Gloves, a hat, maybe even a scarf.

Cove cringed at each word that escaped your lips. He nodded anyway. You both put on more winter gear in preparation for the snow activities. You held open the door for Cove, who hesitantly stepped outside.

Cove: This is way worse than the ice skating rink.

Y/N: You don’t say?

You loved teasing Cove for his blunt and often obvious statements, but he knew you adored him for it. He scoffed and stuck his tongue out at you.

Y/N: Careful with that, might get stuck on a pole.

Cove retreated his tongue and blushed lightly. You gently poked his tummy then grabbed his hand to lead him into the snow. You chose a wide open space away from the cabin for your snowman’s home. You started shoveling snow into a pile. Cove stood reluctantly nearby. You didn’t want to push him, but hoped he would join in the building.

To your surprise, it was only a moment before Cove dug his gloved hands into the snow. He smiled at you shakily while adding to your growing pile of snow. You went back and forth between adding snow and rounding the pile into a snowman base. Cove’s big hands proved useful in this endeavor. With the base done, you moved onto the head.

Y/N: We have to make the head smaller than the body.

Cove: How small? Do you want to give him a shrunken head?

You cackled at the thought, but shook your head.

Y/N: I think he deserves a normal sized head.

Between the two of you, the snowman’s head slowly grew. You stepped back to assess the size.

Y/N: I think that’s perfect. What do you think, Cove?

Cove stepped back as well and tilted his head. He spoke matter-of-factly.

Cove: Looks like a snowman.

Y/N: Not yet, he needs a face and arms.

You scoured the ground around you for twigs, leaves, and rocks. Cove did the same.

Cove: If only we had seashells. That would bring it all together.

With your findings combined, you got to work on designing the snowman. His face came together in a wide smile made of various pebbles. Leaves stuck to the top of his head represented the hair. Two sticks on either side of his body became the arms. Cove found several small pinecones to pin on his front like an array of buttons. Finally, the nose. You didn’t have a carrot on hand, so you opted for another one of Cove’s pointier pinecones.

Once again, you stepped back with Cove to admire your work. You wrapped your arm around him in a side hug, he returned the gesture with an arm around your shoulder.

Y/N: He’s beautiful.

You pretended to dramatically wipe a tear from your eye.

Cove: We should name him.

You agreed, and began to ponder names that would fit the snowman. After much deliberation, you settled on Sandy, as a memento of the inspiration for his existence.

Y/N: Sandy the Snowman, it really is perfect.

Cove: Next time we’re at the beach we should build a sandman and name him Snowy.

Cove waggled his eyebrows at you, hoping for a reaction to his hilarious joke. You couldn’t contain the grin that emerged from within. You were suddenly overcome by a wave of affection for Cove. His dorky jokes, the way he looked at you, his willingness to put his own comfort aside for your sake. You wanted nothing more than to push him down into the snow and ravage him. Knowing better, you instead decided to grab his hand again and lead him back indoors.

Cove followed with a small gasp at your sudden insistence. Once inside, you leaned Cove against the door and pressed your lips into his. You were desperate for his warmth. He returned the kiss passionately, running his fingers through your hair. You broke away from Cove, satisfied with your second mistle-toe kiss. Cove stood bewildered, disappointed by losing the warmth of your lips. You winked at him, never tiring of teasing your flustered fiancé.

You spent the rest of the afternoon enjoying each other’s company. You played board games, sang Christmas songs, and drank hot chocolate. As the evening emerged, a light snowfall began outside. You gazed out the window, hypnotized by the dancing snowflakes. Your eyes began to droop, and you felt the weight of the day pulling you down. You yawned and turned to Cove, who was already turning the couch into a bed. He must have sensed your weariness.

Cove threw some blankets and pillows into the bed and you dove right into the inviting warmth. He joined you and extended his arm to make his chest available to your sleepy head. You nuzzled in and closed your eyes, ready to drift away…

You stirred awake at the feeling of the mattress shifting. Your eyes fluttered open and tried to adjust to the darkness. Cove was climbing back into bed. It was completely dark outside, you judged it must have been a few hours after you fell asleep. Still half asleep, you muttered quietly to Cove.

Y/N: Santa, baby…

You couldn’t see his expression through the darkness, instead you heard a small chuckle. You held your arms out limply, hoping for a Cove cuddle. He took you in his arms and kissed the top of your head. You continued feebly, in a sleepy sing-song voice.

Y/N: So hurry down the chimney tonight…

Cove chuckled again and stroked your cheek gently.

Cove: I love you so much.

That was the last thing you heard before falling back into a deep slumber. Several hours later, the morning sun woke you. Cove was sleeping peacefully next to you, likely exhausted from playing Santa Claus last night. You turned over and rested your body on his chest. You peppered his face in tiny kisses until he awoke. His eyes eased open, a smile already growing across his face.

Y/N: Merry Christmas, Cove.

Cove: Merry Christmas, Y/N.

Unable to contain your excitement, you leapt out of bed, leaving Cove to fully wake himself up. You ran to your suitcase and recovered the small wrapped gift you got for Cove. You decided to place it beneath the already populated tree. Your jaw dropped seeing how many gifts Cove got you. You placed the gift down carefully and went to check on Cove.

Y/N: Please tell me you’re ready to open gifts.

Cove: I’m ready, but you have to open yours first.

You didn’t argue, you wanted to save your gift to Cove for last anyway. He joined you by the tree and sat cross-legged across from you.

Y/N: Where should I start? Is there any order to this madness?

Cove thought for a moment, then pulled out one of the presents. Shiny reindeer-imprinted paper covered the box. He held it out to you.

Cove: Definitely start with this one.

Impressed that he seemed to remember what was in each box, you took the gift with a smile. You tore open the paper and uncovered the joy within: an adorable stuffed dolphin. Your eyes lit up as you hugged the little guy. You thanked Cove, who immediately bestowed you with another carefully selected box. You giggled and repeated the process. The rest of the boxes contained: a book from your favorite series, tickets to an upcoming play, rare foreign candy, colorful seashells, and a beautiful ocean-themed puzzle.

You felt overwhelmed by the thought that Cove put into each gift. You struggled to find words besides “thank you.” However, Cove wasn’t done. He handed you a final box.

Cove: One more.

You unwrapped this one carefully, a mix of anticipation and nerves stirring within. Inside was a small album titled “Our Life.” You carefully lifted it out of the box and flipped through the pages. Each page was designed to represent a point in your lives together, from childhood all the way to this past summer. There were pictures, funny quotes, tickets from various events, and doodles. Cove even included the piece of paper from your infamous hang-man game.

You were already tearing up before you noticed a smaller box within the original box. With shaking hands and a pounding heart, you opened it.

Inside the box was a simple ring with an engraved wave design. You couldn’t stop the waterfall of tears that erupted from your eyes. Your emotions surged and your mind was spinning. Without speaking, you grabbed the present you put under the tree and offered it to Cove. He was visibly confused, even a bit concerned.

Cove: Y/N, is everything okay?

You spoke through tears.

Y/N: Just open it.

Cove silently complied. His fingers carefully removed the red and white pinstriped paper. He looked at you nervously before looking into the box. His eyes widened and glistened.

Cove: A ring…

You laughed shakily and scooted closer to Cove, still holding your own small box. He looked up at you, tears streaming down his red cheeks.

Y/N: We’re already engaged, but still got rings for each other. And look at how emotional we are about it!

Cove: I thought it would be nice to make it official with a real engagement ring.

You nodded in agreement, pleased that you were both on the same page.

Y/N: Let’s put them on each other.

You exchanged rings with Cove. He held your still shaking hand and carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. You did the same, relieved that the ring was a perfect fit on his finger.

You let out a massive sigh, it felt as if you had been holding your breath for ages. Cove was admiring the ring on his finger, his ocean eyes still glimmering with tears.

Cove: It feels as magical as it did the first time on the poppy hill.

You looked at him adoringly, unable to contain the crashing ocean of love you felt inside.

Y/N: Thank you, Cove. For putting in so much effort for me. All the time. But especially this Christmas. I know holidays aren’t your thing, especially not winter ones…

Rambling nervously, you felt like Cove in that moment. He invited you to sit on his lap with a simple pat. You settled in and waited. He cradled you close and spoke quietly but confidently.

Cove: You are my thing. You’re the best gift I could ask for. You make braving holidays and snow worth it. I can’t imagine how this day could get any better.

Cove was right. The morning was still fresh, and you were already swimming in bliss. You sniffled, feeling lucky to have him and looking forward to living your life with the man you love. Christmas Day would hold a special place in your hearts for the rest of your lives.

#our life #our life: beginnings & always #our life beginnings & always #cove holden #cove #cove holden x mc #cove holden x reader #lgbt #writing #my writing #gb patch games #gb patch #fanfic #fandom #fanwork #oc #self insert #mc #romance #one shot #visual novel #otome game #request #christmas

[savebatsfromscratch]

Do You Fear Me, Dear? - Extremely late RusAmeChu week fic

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Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38582931

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Tws: A little bit of swearing, mildly creepy behavior from Russia that I didn’t realize was weird until I was editing. (I swear he was intended to be a weird hitman, not what he comes off as. :(( )

Prompt: Angst

Words: 2237

-

This is kinda bad and I made up the idea for it in math class. shrugs And once again it’s a month late.

Set sort of back in time, but not meant to actually be in a real time period.

Also I dipped into old fanon dynamics a little. I hope you can forgive me, I think we all deserve to indulge a little sometimes. XD

America sighed and put his head to his desk, office door slamming shut as his last correspondent for the day left in a huff. He wasn’t exactly sure how he had messed up, but it was rather clear that he had. ‘My boss isn’t going to be very happy about this,’ he thought, shifting slightly so that his arm acted as pillow and his head was no longer difficulty on the desk. 

In this new position, he tilted his head slightly to look at the ceiling. It was a regular office ceiling, with the exception of the glow-in-the-dark stars that his team had set up. (He was pretty sure that the reason was for ‘employee morale’ or something, but he couldn’t be quite sure as he hadn’t gone to the board meeting.) In the fading light of the day, he could see the awkward shapes beginning to stand out against the simple white around them, their little bodies starting to shine greenish as the ceiling around them grayed. He sighed and burried his face back in his arms. The stars might be a comfort to some of the other employees, but all they did for him was make him wish he was out of the building and somewhere far away for his vein of work.

Technically his job for the day was over, his last client had left fewer than five minutes ago, but the boss had decided that all employees were meant to stay at least thirty minutes after their last meeting. It was an annoying rule, but it wasn’t like they weren’t getting paid for the overtime, so America couldn’t really complain. 

Suddenly realizing he didn’t know what time it was (and therefore what time he could leave), America sat up to look at the clock. It glowed like the stars, so he didn’t even need to stand up to turn on the light to read it. The hour hand was at the six, and the minute hand was at the five. He pursed his lips, having to think a little too hard about what that meant before deciding that he was going to leave at seven. (Even if it was a few minutes over.) He could probably just take a nap anyway. 

He stretched his arms above his head, feeling them shake satisfyingly as his shoulders popped. Or he could finish up his paperwork, that way he wouldn’t have to come in early the next day. He shook the sleep out of his ears, so many choices, so little time. He opened his mouth to yawn, but stopped rather suddenly halfway through.

He squinched up his nose. There was something wrong in the air, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something was off. He shook his head, trying to ignore it. Maybe he imagined it, it had been a long day and he was tired. Those where just the sorts of conditions for someone to make up strange things happening. After a quick moment of decision, he decided to try to rest a bit. He leaned back in his chair, the back squeaking familiarly as he tried to relax. He started to take a deep breath in, one that imitated the calming breaths his therapist had been trying to tell him to take more often, but stopped halfway through as he caught that scent again.

This time he sat up. Suddenly very sure that he wasn’t just making up a weirdness that hadn’t been there a moment ago. ‘What is that?' He wondered, trying to shake some confidence into himself as he looked nervously around the room, ‘Is there a fire?’ 

Alarmed, he stood, the sudden movement sending his chair teetering backward and a few papers to fly off his desk. If it was a fire, he should get out of the building. He took a few tentative steps towards the door. Then again, if it was a fire, he would be able to smell smoke  wouldn’t he? Not just a sense of something weird in the air. He glanced back at his desk, looking towards the carpet and quietly contemplating if he should leave the building or not. If there wasn’t a fire, then he would be leaving his station without completing his shift, and he might get in trouble for that. 

But before he could make either decision, he felt someone’s eyes on his back. He froze. A chill shivering up his spine as fear shot though him. Shaking as he struggled to ignore his sudden terror, the blond haired nation forced himself to drag his eyes upward. They traced up the desk’s leg, across it’s surface and it’s messy paperwork, up the chair back, and finally coming to a rest on the mirror that he had hanging behind his desk. His eyes widened and he felt his glasses slip a bit down his nose. In that mirror was a reflection of him and his office, but he wasn’t the only person standing starkly against the wood paneled wall.

Behind him was another man.

A man with pure white hair and inhuman purple eyes.

“Hello Alfred,” came his familiar voice, words lit with a smile smeared in poison, “I saw that you dropped some papers, do you want them back?” In the reflection, America could see that Russia (because those purple eyes could belong to no one else) was indeed holding out the papers that had slipped off his desk, held tightly in one leather gloved hand.

He fought back the urge to spin around and spit at the other nation, but instead just gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists. ‘No wonder it smelled weird,’ he thought angrily, fully aware that what he had sensed hadn’t be a scent, not exactly, ‘This motherfucker just had to show up-,’

But his thoughts were chopped in two as Russia spoke again, his words more of a mocking purr than they had been before, “You have to answer my question if you want me to give you your papers.” He whispered, and then, as if relishing in his statement, he shook the aforementioned papers slightly. And America felt an angry hiss building up inside him as he watched.

Just barely avoiding letting the sound out, America swiftly turned toward the taller man. But he was surprised by the brightness that greeted him. Even though he had been looking at them in the mirror a moment ago, those gleaming purple eyes caught him off guard, so when he spoke he stuttered his way into the first few words. “If you wanna give me my papers I’ll take ‘em,” he suppressed another hiss as he saw a smirk grow on Russia’s face, “But if you’d rather throw ‘em out I got copies in the filing cabinets.”

Here Russia’s smirk briefly transformed into a frown, but before America could get to ahead of himself and revel in his comeback, that very same frown changed into another smile. (Though it shone equally with fake pleasantries and with the look of someone who just got their favorite meal handed to them at a dinner. If that meal was a freshly delivered idea for how to properly frighten another immortal being, that was.)

“Well then I’ll save you the trouble,” Russia said smoothly, handing the papers over and dragging his fingers over America’s hand for just a second too long, “Filing cabinets are always such a hassle,” here he grinned meanly, “But I guess since you spend so much time around them they aren’t as difficult anymore, yes?”

America rolled his eyes, but even he could tell it was forced defiance. (And he wasn’t the one staring at his face with mockingly ruthless intent.) “Well at least I have a reliable job,” he retorted, though the words felt strange and forced on his tongue, “Last I checked you were still working as a dishwasher,”

Russia hummed before he responded, a simple carefree note that only served to tell America how little this taunting was bothering him. “That’s a more reliable job than you think it is, and besides, I quit it ages ago.” 

This surprised America slightly, but he tried not to make that super obvious, (even as he could feel chills and sweat run down his back like a river rapids ride at some decrepit theme park in upstate Vermont.) “Oh really? Good for you,” he said, even though both of them knew he didn’t really mean the last part of his comment.

Russia tilted his head to the side and smiled, and America instantly knew that he could tell that he had him trapped. “Oh yes. I’ve got a much better job now,” He counted on his fingers briefly before adding, “-pays better than your current one as well.” 

America would’ve retorted with something smart like, ‘Then get the hell out of my office if your job is so much better,’ or maybe just a simple, ‘Fuck you.’ But that weird feeling in the air had returned, and it made his hair stand up and his nose squench up. Plus, the feeling that was now boiling in his gut wasn’t much of a comfort either.

After a moment of America trying to muster the courage to respond properly, Russia started again. (This time with a rather threatening step forward before he began to speak.) “Would you like to know what my new job is? Would you, Alfred?” On his human name, Russia took another step forward, and America took an instinctual step back, suddenly feeling very small compared to his former ally.

“Stop doing that,” he managed, feeling a strange dread (the one he couldn’t quite explain) crawl over his arms like spiders. He watched as Russia smiled and quickly realized that what he had said sounded sort of pleading. He tried to look bravely into Russia’s eyes to show him that that wasn’t what he truly felt (even if it was), but even he could tell that he failed when the glowing purple shocked him away once more.

“Stop doing what?” Russia’s smile seemed to get wider with every step forward, “You’re going to have to use your words if you want something, didn’t your dear friend Davie ever teach you that?” 

America bristled, but he could only force himself to spit out a few words (that cold chill and odd scent were growing to a crescendo now). “Stop using my name, you know no one calls me that.” His last word stuttered to a halt as his back hit the edge of his desk.

That grin widened once more, and America could have sworn that if Russia smiled any wider his face would split in two. “There’s always time to start a new tradition,” he said, pointing it out as if this was any sort of situation to share words of wisdom, “And besides, it rolls off the tongue much better than ‘United States of America’.”

America glanced behind himself, not all comforted when he just saw his chair with the mirror and the paper covered wall behind it. (Instead of the emergency exit he was half hoping would magically pop into existence without it existing previously.) Something was wrong. This was different from the last time he had talked to Russia. There was a different power balance somehow. He was supposed to be the strong one. The one with the super strength.

“Maybe I think that human names are useless,” he muttered, putting his hands on either side of himself on the desk in a half-assed attempt to look comfortable, “Maybe I think that ‘Alfred’, or ‘Arthur’ or ‘Ivan’ are stupid words to call a representation of a people.” (He purposely mispronounced Russia’s name as “EYE-van”, and was subsequently disappointed when he didn’t seem to care all that much.)

“I guess we can agree to disagree then,” Russia shrugged, stepping forward again and growing his shadow ever larger, “It wouldn’t be the first time now, would it?” For a moment, America watched as the glow-in-the-dark stars shone strangely above the other nation’s white haired head, but he quickly snapped back to reality.

“Since when have we disagreed on something without a fight,” America spat, (Which probably would have been a good comeback if it wasn’t for the incessant shaking of his voice.), “I was pretty sure we were in the middle of one of those actually.” 

Suddenly, he felt a hand at his side, and his eyes snapped open. He hadn’t been aware that he had closed them, but even as wide open as they were now, they still couldn’t take in the crystallized flames that sparked so frighteningly in the ones right across them. He held the stare as long as he could, but had to fight down a scream as he felt a second hand. (This one resting on his hip.)

The clock hit seven with a trembling rush. (America did not know how that time had passed so quickly, all he knew was that he needed to get AWAY from his current situation just as fast.) But instead of giving him that chance, Russia asked one last question, eyes sparking like ghosts and teeth shining like a really weird toothpaste commercial. “Alfred?” he asked, moving that hand that had previously been on the desk to hold America’s chin in his hand. "Do you fear me…” America took a deep breath and prepared for the worst, “-dear?”

#rusamechu week 2022 #fanfiction #rusame #hws #hetalia #hws russia #hws america #hetalia america #hetalia russia #tw: swearing #actual post #my art

[renova-writes]

The Silver Shadow

Summary: The Avengers come up with a plan to capture you. Unfortunately, you are not a stupid girl. They know this and must come up with something that is foolproof. Everyone knows that this is their only chance for decades to get you and they are not messing around. You make your way to one of your many safe houses only to get captured. But, as it turns out, the Avengers want you alive.

Words: 2,007

Warnings: swearing, violence, talk of suicide

Tags: @shadowolf993 @daisy116

Other Chapters: Masterlist

A/N: I’ve got my plan for this fic FINALLY laid out. I’m sorry it’s taken so long for this chapter. I’ve been busy with the end of the school year and stuff like that. Anyways I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you do you should totally ask to join the tag list for this fic or request your own. And remember: comments and asks are always okay. 🖤🖤

Chapter 4: What was the point?

"Where do you think she is?" Rhodes asked. Fury had called him in from the Military to find you. He and the rest of the Avengers were in Tony's penthouse living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows showed off just how high up the room was. Not only displaying the might of the building, but it also had a near-perfect view of Manhattan. The city that never sleeps was illuminated by the pinkish-orange glow of the sunset.

"According to my calculations and the report of the Special Ops on the train that reported her. She is approximately 80 miles outside of Quebec. "Vision said, "Whether she is aware of that proximity or not, our best move would be to have a watch in the city."

"Definitely," Steve agreed, "I'll talk to the mayor and call in a few favors."

"What if she never makes it to Quebec? She's probably not stupid. What if all those eyes cause her to stay off the grid? Then we'll never catch her." Tony criticized. It was true; you weren't stupid. If you got wind of an alert to look out for someone who looked even remotely like you, you were going to stay as far away if you could.

One time, you had left a witness, and they reported you to the police. Like clockwork, they put out a wanted alert. It was 1985, and you were in Los Angeles, so they had more significant issues to deal with. You got lucky because, at the time, it was the height of the terror caused by the Night Stalker.

To be honest, you had never really understood serial killers. You were technically one, but the psychopathic killers—the crazy cannibal sadists. HYDRA had checked your mental health, and the results had come back pretty standard. There was a bit of crazy in you, but hey, who doesn't have any?

Since everyone was so scared of the Night Stalker, they didn't pay too much attention to someone who had killed one minor, uninfluential politician. No one reported you, and no one cared. You left Los Angeles unscathed but a little rattled.

What if someone had reported me?... What would happen?... Thank God it didn't happen this time?... I need to be more careful…

You had learned your lesson. If you got wind someone was looking for you, they were never, ever going to find you—end of story.

"He's right," Bucky said as he walked into the room. After Steve talked to him, he went back to his room to clean up before joining the rest of the Avengers in coming up with a plan to catch you. "She's careful. There's too much on the line for her."

"Then what do we do?" Wanda asked, "How do we catch her?"

"Hear me out… We still do a watch and tell the mayor. But we don't release it to the public. We let law enforcement know and send them as many troops as we can." Clint suggested.

"With undercover cops?" Banner asked.

"Exactly," He responded. "Let Y/N think that everything is normal. That no one's looking for her."

"All in favor?" Steve asked. Everyone voted yes. It was a good idea. You didn't know it yet, but it was an excellent idea. "I'll let the mayor and police chief know then."

Steve walked out and made his way to one of the comm rooms. The rest of the avengers looked among one another. They were all on edge. Sam Wilson, who had absolutely no idea how dangerous you were, was the least worried. To him, you were just another common criminal who would be caught. On the other side of the spectrum, Bucky could barely keep himself together. After excusing himself, he walked to the bathroom, locked the door, and wasn't heard from for a few hours.

Everyone else waited for a while to see if they were still needed before making their way to various spots. Some, like Nat and Wanda, went to their rooms. Banner went to the lab with Tony, and Clint went to the gym.

---------------------------------------

You were no better off than you were yesterday. Maybe you had clothes, sure, but you also managed to have sex with an asshole and assault the guy. Alex wasn't going to remember it, but that didn't make it right. Out of all of the things you had done, your conscience said that was the worst. You had acted like a monster. Hopefully, he would be okay. You wouldn't.

After storming out of the King's Treason, you found yourself on a dirt road through a forest. It was the middle of the night, and all the stars were awake. You wondered what was up there. After watching the Battle of New York unfold on television, you were well aware that you weren't alone in the universe. Thor had made that clear. But you still didn't know precisely what there was. In your mind, the galaxy was rich with alien life. Things that looked like humans but with rainbow-colored skin. Somethings that looked nothing like humans. You wondered if it was like Star Wars showed it. That would be cool. But you didn't know, because you had never seen an alien in real life before.

When you stared at the stars, there was always one that stood out to you. It wasn't the biggest or the brightest, but it was the most beautiful. If someone asked you if you wanted to go to space and you could go to any star or place, that would be the one. It didn't matter if nothing was there, but you knew there was. You just knew. The moon was bright tonight too. It dimed out the light of the surrounding stars and made the night on Earth a little brighter.

There was only one road to follow. Since all roads lead somewhere, you picked one and started walking. The night was peaceful and quiet. That was what you needed. You looked at your watch that had a compass on it. You were heading southeast.

The scenery remained the same for the first few miles. Suddenly the forest began shifting into the countryside. The rolling hills morphed into gated suburbs. A quick glance at your GPS told you that you were in Quebec.

Quebec…. I have a safe house here… Finally some peace and quiet…

You walked for an hour until you found the road that led to the neighborhood your house was in. It had been a few years since you had gone to his house. Everything was the same, but a little different. The streets were emptied in the early morning air, but it wasn't the same Quebec that you remembered. The barbershop on the corner was gone. The window that had once said Chez Berruby's Barbers had been changed to an ice cream store.

The more you looked, the more you saw the changes. That was never a good sign. But you ignored it and kept walking down the street until you got to Rue Saint-Paul. That was your street. You were right; everything was changing. Every single house on the street looked well kept and trimmed. The bushes were perfect, and the grass was green. Then there was your safe house. The yard was brown, and the windows were cracked. It stuck out like a sore thumb, which meant you would stick out too.

It's only for a night… Or two… We'll move on again…

You looked in a small notebook you kept in your supply belt for where you had hidden the key. Under the pot shaped like a frog. Was it on the front steps? No. After searching the side gate area, the garage, and the balcony over it, you concluded that there was no frog pot. There might have been a few years ago. But a lot can happen in a year. Let alone three or four.

"Well fuck it," you muttered. You got a knife out and picked the lock. A click told you the door was unlocked, so you went inside. You opened the door and stepped inside. The house was musty and smelled like cat pee. You followed the hallway past the stairs and into the kitchen.

To be honest, you didn't know what you were expecting when you opened the fridge. Definitely not food. To your surprise, there was a moldy pizza and flat Coca-Cola. You were not that desperate. After rummaging through the cabinets, you found some cans of kidney beans. The expiration date was last week, but they'd have to do.

Halfway through the can of rancid beans, you heard the fists banging against the door.

"Y/n Y/L/N? We know you're in there." A deep voice yelled, "Turn yourself in now, and we can do this quickly and quietly. I will give you a minute to come out, and then we will come in. Understood?"

No. They were most definitely not understood. You would not be going out without a fight. They were probably going to execute you right there on the steps. If they wanted to kill you. They were going to need to catch you first.

How about a game of cat and mouse?... Maybe this mouse will bite you in the nose... Who nose...

But you couldn't take it anymore. Fear took over. Instead of fighting, your first instinct was to hide. You flew upstairs and flung yourself into the top shelf of a closet. Who cared if it wouldn't be able to hold you? You were hiding for your life. Fear crept up your spine as you saw the end come into sight. Movies always showed the last moments of someone's life as an emotional roller coaster. Maybe if you lived longer, you could have seen some more movies. But they were right.

What had you done with your life? Lie? Kill? For what? For who? What was the point? You had never trusted anyone. Never loved anyone. You didn't even know what love was supposed to feel like. If you could live again, you would try to be a regular person. To live and love. For a trip to Starbucks for an Iced Latte be a normal thing. Not something you had to plan for months for. For friends. People you could trust and care about.

You wished that you could be dying in a huge comfortable bed, with your lover holding your hand. Surrounded by friends and family. Reflecting on your life and having no regrets. You could have a beautiful funeral where people flocked from near and far to celebrate the life of the girl they all loved. Your family would get so many flowers that all the bees of the world would come and dance on your grave.

But that was a fantasy.

Instead, you were alone. Scared out of your mind on a shelf in a closet. In a house that wasn't yours. Alone.

Tears fell down your face as you compared what your life could have been to what it was. You almost wanted them to kill you so it could be over.

It's all over… And I'm… Happy?...

"Anyone in here?" A soldier called. You were surprised he couldn't hear your heart hammering through your chest. Or the hurricane in your eyes.

The footsteps of three other soldiers entered the room and began tearing it apart.

Five… Four… Three… Two… On-

"Found her!" He shouted. He opened the closet door and barely had time to get the sentence out before you shot him. You didn't even have room in your mind to feel sorry. You were numb and tired and scared for your life.

You jumped out of the closet and aimed your gun at the next guy.

He fell down. And the next. You only got shots onto those two before everything went dark.

Am I dead?... Please tell me I'm dead… Shit…

The darkness faded into blinding white. After that faded, you saw that you were in a prison cell. And not dead. Fuck.

#loki #marvel #loki laufeyson #marvel imagine #loki odinson #marvel tv show #tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #hot hiddleston #disney plus #loki smut #loki (marvel) #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x reader #avengers x you #avengers x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #avengers fic #the silver shadow

[noxnights]

From One O’Hara to Another

Credit for all these amazing characters goes to @lumosinlove and big thanks to @heyitssmiller for betaing!

CW: struggling with coming out

Finn wants to come out to Alex.

-

Finn was alone in the apartment. Logan and Leo had gone out to dinner and Finn had decided to take some time to curl up on their couch with a blanket and a book and fall into a new story. Except now he was staring at the pages, not reading a word. 

He hadn’t told his family, any of his family, about him and Logan and Leo. Leo’s family knew of course and Logan’s sisters had been aware of their feelings since Christmas. But Finn just couldn’t. Every time he called Alex he choked on his words. He wanted Alex to know so badly, but with every missed opportunity he felt worse and worse. Alex had to know something was up: he’d seen Logan and Finn during college, and there was that one night when Finn had called him, unable to speak, he had cried for the better part of the call. 

Finn felt like he could tell everyone else, he didn’t worry about new teammates or friends, but with his big brother the fear of losing him outweighed everything else. And the worst part was he’d been brushing off how much stress trying to tell Alex was causing him. Logan and Leo knew he hadn’t told Alex yet, but when they asked he’d just shrugged saying he’d rather do it in person. He didn’t tell them how many phone calls, facetimes, and texts had been almosts. He didn’t tell them how much he was hurting. 

That was his first mistake, he realized as he sat there alone. He hadn’t wanted them to think he was ashamed or that they were unloved. He shook his head a little at the thought, he wasn’t thinking rationally; Finn knew they were a team and he could rely on their support. He could put some of the weight he was carrying down. 

Feeling exhausted, and knowing his boys likely wouldn’t be back for several more hours, he decided to head to bed early. 

When Finn woke up, light was streaming into the room and he lay between Leo, who had an arm loosely circling his waist, and Logan, who had intertwined his legs with Finn’s. He stayed there breathing in his boys, letting their presence, their warmth, comfort him. He would do it, he would tell them what was going on as soon as they woke up. He took another deep breath: in-out, in-out. 

Logan stirred after another minute, always one to notice when his boyfriends’ breathing had changed. He propped himself up on one arm, taking the other hand and running it across the crease of Finn’s brow.

“Fish? Everything okay?”

Finn’s voice felt tight. He nodded, but he knew tears were collecting in his eyes. He swallowed hard, trying to breathe.

“Fish?” Logan asked again.

Finn just closed his eyes and shook his head. Nothing about this should be so difficult, but it was. When he opened his eyes again Leo was awake too, looking at him with concern- a mirror to Logan’s face. 

“Finn, what can we do to help?” Leo tried, always ready to offer up whatever he could. 

Finn just turned over, burying his face in the pillow. He could do this, he just couldn’t do it while looking at them. 

“You remember how I told you I was just waiting to see Alex in person to tell him about us? How I said it wasn’t really a big deal?”

Both boys murmured affirmatively. 

“I- well, that’s not exactly true. I-I’ve tried to tell him so so many times, but I can’t.” Finn flipped onto his back and stared at the ceiling, where the glowing stars he’d gotten for Leo hung- they were grounding, a reminder of the night that had changed so much for the three of them. A reminder of their beginning. It allowed him to get his next words out: “I am so scared and it’s only getting worse. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry for Finn,” said Leo.

Logan added, “we’re not upset or angry at all. It’s up to you when you come out and- well I think Cap and Loops’ situation affected us more than we like to think it did.” 

Finn nodded, he knew they were both right. “Yeah, I just, I want to tell him, I’m going to tell him, but what if he…” Finn left the thought unfinished. He couldn’t even say it.

Leo brushed his hand through Finn’s hair while Logan spoke up. “Finn, I know Alex, he won’t react badly. All he wants is for you to be happy, and-” Logan hesitated before continuing, “I mean we- we weren’t the most subtle in college, were we? You told me how he’s always been there for you and he’ll be there this time too. I’m sure of it.”

It was silent for a moment before Leo spoke, a certain softness laced his words. “If- if you wanted to just start by telling him about you and Lo, and you know wait to mention me, that’d be okay with me. Just so you know.”

Finn turned to face Leo immediately, “Baby- no. Not a chance. I- I would never leave you out or behind. I’m scared, yes, but I want to tell him because I love you. I love you both and I want him to know the people I love as the people I love. I- I know why you’re offering but I would never lie about loving you. I need you to know that.”

“I know. I just, I thought it might be easier, and I want you to be able to tell Alex. I want that for you.”

“I do too, and I think more than anything I needed to tell you guys. I needed to let go of some of the weight I’d been holding.” Finn brought both boys in for a kiss and whispered “I love you’s”. 

Talking with Leo and Logan had helped a lot. He was still extremely nervous, but it no longer felt so impossible. Leo’s offer had given him some answers: he wanted to share his loves with one of his favorite people in the world. Realizing that showed Finn how he was stronger than his fear.

He waited until Leo and Logan were out again, running errands and seeing a movie, and then went to the three of theirs room. He lay back on the bed and dialed Alex’s number. 

The phone rang once, twice, then “Hey O’Hara, how’s it going? Oh- you’re never going to guess where I am!” 

For a moment Finn didn’t say anything. This would be just like every other time. 

Alex’s voice came through the phone again, “Finn?” 

“Uh- yeah- hey.”

“What’s up? Everything okay?” 

“Um, no not really. Well actually, yes everything is great, but also right now not really.”

“Okay, do you want to talk about it?” Alex sounded confused. Of course he sounded confused, Finn knew he wasn’t making any sense. 

Finn tried again. “Do you remember that time, while I was at Harvard, I called you?”

“Yeah. Of course.” There could only be one phone call Finn was talking about.

“Okay, well it’s kind of about the same thing, but the opposite.”

“The opposite?”

“I- yeah I’m dating someone- someones actually.”

“Fish! That’s great! I’m so glad you found-”

Finn cut Alex off. If he was going to say it he had to say it. He had to get it all out. “It’s- I’m dating Logan and, and Leo. Both of them.”

He heard Alex take a breath, and, in turn, he knew Alex could hear him crying. 

“Finn, you know it doesn’t matter who you love as long as you’re happy. That’s the only thing I care about.”

“I know, or well I do know that, but I was- I just mean a lot of people don’t react well to someone, especially someone in their family, being bisexual, and even more so to them being polyamorous. I didn’t want to lose you, but I love them. I had to tell you. I love them.” 

“This changes nothing between us, except that now we can double date. I love you no matter what, and you know I’d never judge you for any of that.” Alex paused letting the call hang silent for a moment. “I mean it’d be a little hypocritical of me.” 

“Hypocritical?” Finn croaked.

Alex gave a shaky laugh, “yeah, I was actually going to surprise you this week and uh- hopefully have you meet, or uh- really just reintroduce you to my partners. Which maybe we can still do? You bring yours and I’ll bring mine?”

“Yeah, yes! One hundred percent. Wait- reintroduce, does that mean I know them?”

“Maybe…” Alex said slyly. “But really, from one bisexual polyamorous hockey player to another, it’s going to be okay Finn. I’ll always love you and I’m proud of you for telling me.”

“I’ll always love you too, and Alex?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really proud of you too.”

Finn could hear Alex’s smile, “thanks Fish, how does Saturday- tomorrow- sound?”

“Tomorrow? Aren’t you in Florida?”

“Actually I um, I’m already in Gryffindor.”

“You’re in Gryff right now?”

“Yeah- I’m staying with my people, remember how I said I was going to surprise you?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess that got lost in all the other news.”

“Fair enough.”

“So tomorrow, around one for lunch? You bring yours and I’ll bring mine?” Finn clarified, using the chance, the freedom he now had to talk about his boyfriends. He felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest, even that simple phrase made him giddy with joy.

“Yeah, tomorrow. You bring yours, I’ll bring mine. Love you Fish.”

“Love you too Alex.”

#leo knut x finn o'hara x logan tremblay #Leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #alex o'hara #o'darwin #Coast To Coast #Sweater Weather #o'knutzy #oknutzy #lumosinlove #coming out #Harry Potter

[angelkurenai]

You’re magic, baby - Dean Winchester x Reader (Bodyguard AU)

Title: You’re magic, baby

Pairing: Bodyguard!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Word count: 4,525

Warnings: Language, Sexual tension, Voyeurism (I think)

Summary: The sexual tension between you and your bodyguard has always been too thick, you thought there would come a point when it would all explode right in your faces. Couldn’t go any further. That is, until you figured out it could. And while Dean is helping you put on a dress for an event, standing in front of the mirror you get a few ideas about how you could find other ways to use it.

“I swear, I honestly swear to you, one of these days I am going to call your manager and tell him you're going to be taking a break from all of this. No more Oscars, no red carpets, no late night shows no more any of it.” you heard he gruff voice of your bodyguard as you fixed the strap of your heels.

“I see.” you smiled to yourself “And how long do you plan for this break to last exactly?”

“Hmm maybe the rest of your life? Or maybe the rest of mine. Whatever gets the job done.” you heard a heavy sigh come from him “I'm in desperate need of vacation. Especially from joining you to this bloody show for the fourth time. Who knows what I'm going to have to witness tonight.”

“Aw darling.” you appeared from you walk-in closet, smiling at him “If you wanted to go on vacation with me, all you had to do is ask. It's not like I'd ever say no to showing you the lovely bikinis I bought three months ago.”

“You really have no mercy left for me anymore, do you?” he mumbled gruffly, shaking his head before running a hand down his face.

“Why? What else did I do?” you asked in disbelief “It's not like I made you come with me for swimwear or anything! I knew you would protest so I didn't even ask, what's the-”

“Yeah, and I guess I should thank my lucky stars for being spared one heart attack out of a thousand.” he said sarcastically before shaking his head “I wasn't talking to you, no. I was talking to whoever out there that could listen.” he looked up at the ceiling as you giggled at his dramatic stance “So that maybe they could take pity on me and give me one, just one calm night.”

“And?” you asked with a grin, moving towards your dresser “Any luck with that?”

“Well-” his eyes finally landed on you, as if he had almost been holding back from doing that or at least preparing himself for what sight could await him was he to look at you tonight “Taking a look at the dress-” he shrugged “Looks like they're having a fit at the moment. And my life and what I am currently going through is the joke.” he sigh and shook his head “What are you wearing?”

“Oh you like it?” you asked with a hopeful smile “It's called a slip dress.”

“Yeah oh trust me I know perfectly well what it's called. What I'm asking is why are you wearing it?”

“Why not? Because it shows a little more skin? I didn't take you for a prude, Dean.” you shook your head “Besides, I've been forever meaning to get one but after all that filming I was so tired that only now I got the chance to wear it. Sophie was wearing a lovely pink one the other day in case you not-”

“I don't care what your friend's been doing. I don't care what any other actress does, to be honest. I'm not their bodyguard, I'm yours and I am spending all of my day with you and not them. So how about appreciate it a bit by wearing something less-”

“Less what?” you looked at him a little disappointed and he almost felt his heart sink “Don't you like it?”

Less what, really? How could he put it into words?

How could he even put into words the fact that the fabric made you look nothing short of a goddess? How could he even put into words that the fabric was soft, a beautiful shiny silk that seemed to bring out a special kind of glow in you? A glow that he loved to take in whenever he saw; when you were happy and laughing, when you were carefree and singing, when you were basking in the sun in spring. A glow that came from within and could easily make heads turn, capturing any man's attention much to Dean's dismay. The fabric seemed to glide over every curve and edge of your body, making them stand out in the most beautiful way. Your skin looked alluring, to say the least, smooth and almost made of a softer material than that of the dress itself; begging for a touch. And the cut, the shapes the fabric took over your body, showing all the parts of your body that Dean had guiltily dreamed so many times about kissing. It showed much more skin than he would like for you to show on any occasion but at the same time he couldn't deny he saw how good you felt in it and therefore couldn't say no to you wearing it.

You looked ethereal. That was the word. That was the only word he could come up with, but never one he would use (never had found a reason to until now, that is) and therefore would earn a look or two. And not being ready yet to explain how undeniably alluring you were to him, he decided it was best not to put anything into words whatsoever.

“No it's uh-” he sighed and shook his head again “It's wonderful, sweetheart. And it looks great on you, actually. You're... you're stunning. I'm sorry.” such an understatement but he could never really tell you his opinion, no matter his feelings “It's just that you maybe, just maybe, could wear something less... Well, something with less chances of giving poor old me a heart attack? I'm barely surviving any these days.”

“Oh Dean, come on. You've survived worst.” you giggled, joking along “Besides, I'm sorry but this is actually a gift from Gal. She gave me this dress a long time ago and I really wanted to thank her by wearing it for a special occasion, you know?”

“Oh lovely.” Dean breathed out a bit sarcastically “So Gal hates me too, now.”

“She doesn't hate you, you silly.” you giggled again, turning to face the mirror on top of your dresser “Now, could you please help me with the straps? These two tie at the back, to keep it in place.” the moment you turned to reveal the nearly bare back he could swear the air got caught in his throat but he also knew you were watching him through the mirror so he kept his composure.

“Oh yeah, then explain the assassination attempt against me with this dress.” he muttered, half playfully and half... well, honestly, mostly trying to keep it together.

You snorted, shaking your head as you tried on different rings “You're so melodramatic sometimes, honestly maybe you should be the actor instead of me. But then again, that's why I love you this much.”

It took every bit of concentration and self-restrain in Dean not to show any reaction. Even if your words made his heat jump to his throat, even if shivers run down his spine and even if his hands, heavens his entire body, trembled as a result of hearing you say it again. He might look frozen on the spot but that still was a lot better than showing to you just how much it affected him; him and his treacherous heart.

“Dean?” your voice was barely above a whisper, indicating that maybe he wasn't so successful this time “Everything ok? Are you alright? I didn't-” you paused before you sighed softly “I'm s-”

“No” his voice came out gruff as if he had not spoken for days, but he had to stop you before you apologized. Because he knew that if you were to say you were sorry then it would be the breaking point for him. He'd just gather you in his arms right then and there and tell you he loved you too, and that was the last thing he needed right now. “No just-” he sighed, letting his head rest on your bare shoulder for just a few seconds.

“I was thinking-” he huffed a laugh, feeling proud for how genuine he sounded, and when he looked up again he tried to look just as casual as well “This really wasn't part of any of the training I did. Tell this to any other bodyguard and I bet you anything, they're gonna be jealous as hell. I mean, I can certainly think of a couple old friends who would. But above all else-” he almost grinned and took pride in ow convincing he looked when he saw his reflection in the mirror “I remember an ol' trainer of mine who preached about being able to put together a gun from scratch as if my life depended on it. If only he knew how much more scary it is to put together the laces of a dress like this. Talk about life and death situation.”

He had never felt more proud of himself, if not relieved, than the moment he heard your laugh and saw your shoulders relax. It wasn't your fault that everything was so complicated between the two of you, as it was certainly not your fault that Dean felt the way he did about you. He almost let out a sigh of relief himself but held it back in the end.

“More scary than putting out a bomb, that's for sure.” you grinned at him through the reflection “Imagine the headlines this will make if those straps fail to stay in place and the dress falls too loose. Maybe more than what deactivating a bomb would earn.”

“You can say that a-” Dean started, his eyes focused on making a second knot on those straps just for extra measure, before he paused mid-movement. He looked up again to see your reflection and narrowed his eyes at you “Please tell me that you didn't mean what I think you meant.”

“Depends on what you were thinking I meant.” you asked with a small innocent shrug that he didn't trust at all. But was maybe a bit thankful too because it took the conversation in a far different direction which that, at least, he knew how to handle.

“(Y/n)” his voice was warning “Please, just please, tell me that you are wearing some form of underwear underneath this. I don't care if it's even that weird magic sticky horror-stuff thingy you call a bra. I'll take anything at this point. Please.”

“It is a bra, Dean, and it doesn't work by magic. It's just as you said a bit sticky so that it doesn't need any straps.” you said casually and he rolled his eyes, not caring to know how it worked in the first place not when he'd freaked out the first time he saw it in your clothes and thought a murder took place, and not when this time he feared- “Either way, no bra is involved though, no. I kinda like it better like this.”

“Seriously?” his eyes widened and you shrugged once more before he let out a heavy breath, rolling his eyes upward “No mercy at all!” he shook his head before looking back at you “And then you wonder why I hate you attending events. I don't know if I'll even make it through the night, that's why. I'd even ask you to wear something on top but like hell you're gonna make it easier for me here.”

“Oh stop it you big baby. And are you done with that or what? What's taking you forever?”

“Just wait some more, will you? My very own sanity, if not will to live, is hanging by these two threads. I have to add another knot just to be sure.” he let out a long sigh, not informing you of how distracting everything else was, before he added a small bow in the end “There.” he breathed out, looking up again before bringing his hands up to rest on your shoulders and give a squeeze “You're perfect.”

“Not really, but thanks. I mean-” you sighed, offering him a soft smile “If you see me even a little bit like that, then it's all I need.”

He held your gaze through the mirror for a couple more seconds, a barely visible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He wasn't sure what to say but he realized a couple seconds later that he didn't need to speak. He nodded his head and, instead, leaned down and kissed your shoulder blade; every bit of doubt, every sense of logic and the small voice in the back of his head that reminded him he shouldn't be doing this because he worked for you, was gone at that moment. He was guilty for doing it as much as he was for enjoying it, specially the feeling on your skin under his lips.

“Anything else you need help with, princess?” he whispered, his breath ghosting over your skin.

“Well, I uh-” you bit your lower lip and lifted up a necklace “Thought I'd wear this as well?”

“You got it.” he took the piece of jewllery from your hands, working fast on it after taking a peak at you through the mirror “Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

“Oh nothing in particular.” you shrugged far too innocently for his liking “Just, you know, really enjoying this hotel and this room. Maybe we should make ourselves regulars here.”

“Mhhm” he hummed, waiting for the bomb to drop as he helped you with a coat too.

“Everything is lovely, from the room service to the bed, best sleep I've had in a while, to the bathroom. That bubble bath did wonders. It's all incredible, really. But then again it's maybe cause I had more free time than I usually get. To the point...” you trailed off for a moment and Dean knew it was close “That some things got me thinking.”

“Oh really? Thinking about what?”

“Oh you know, mostly silly things. I mean, for example I've been really looking at this mirror and you know how one thoughts lead to another and then another and you end up remembering something embarrassing you did in high school in front of your crush?” you rambled casually while Dean only frowned in confusion “So as I was saying I was looking at this wonderful mirror and thinking-”

“Will you just get to it?”

“You know about how some people don't look good in photos or in the mirror. You certainly look good in a mirror is all I'm noticing now and I was thinking that maybe-”

“(Y/n)” he meant to sound warning but was only heard as soft exasperation.

“Have you ever done it in front of a mirror, Dean?” you asked so simply, as if it was the most simple thing in the world. Catching Dean really off guard, probably more than any other time. His head snapped up and he met your eyes through the mirror, his own impossibly wide, especially as you gave him a curious smile. “You know, had sex with a woman while in front of a mirr-”

“Aaaand we're done here.” he let go of the coat, spinning around to grab his own belongings and your bag while shaking his head in disbelief “Let's go.”

“Dean”

“Nope. Come on, chop chop. One feet in front of the other and no more words out of you for the rest of the way to the studio.” he ignored you. Much like he could easily ignore the topic altogether.

“But I only asked a ques-”

“What did I say?” he gave you a pointed look which only made you have to fight a smile off your face “No. Words. And that was certainly much more than just a question. You've had enough. Hell, I've had enough. Move, come on. We're gonna be late.”

“Fine.” you sighed “But if you didn't wanna answer it, you could've just said so.”

“I'm not getting paid enough to answer that, (Y/n). Hurry up.” he stood by the now open hotel room door and tapped his foot.

Rolling your eyes you grabbed your phone which was still laying on your bed and the keycard. It was only on the way to the door you noticed the drink and bag of baked goods he had gotten for you. Knowing how he'd never let you hear the end of it if you didn't eat anything until you were done, you made sure to grab them as well.

“Alright, I'm ready Dean-o. Let's go.” you said though your words came out muffled, making him look up from his phone to see you holding the keycard in your mouth, which he made a face at.

“I've told you so many times. Don't put that think in your mouth, you don't even know where else it's been.” he huffed, taking the card from you.

“Tell that to the people who make women's clothing and include no pockets. This coat is worth thousands and yet fake pockets!” you shrugged before giving him a small smile “Besides, I thought you'd like it when I put things in my mouth. Then again, I suppose it might depend on the occasion.”

“You know what, (Y/n)?” he spun around to face you, small smile on his lips before it vanished with his next words “You're right. It does depend on the object.” he gave you a somewhat dark look which made you raise an eyebrow, feeling the pleasant shivers run down your spine at the low and gruff voice of your bodyguard.

“Do I?” you asked softly and he hummed, approaching you. You held your ground even if it meant he could pin you on the wall, or maybe exactly because he could pin you on the wall, with his hands and body if he wanted to. The fact that anybody could walk in on you only added to the thrill.

“Mhm” he hummed, licking his lips; and oh your knees felt weak “Cause I really think there is one thing that those sweet lips of yours need. One thing I wouldn't object to, like with that damn card.”

“Oh there is?” your back hit the wall.

“Yeah.” now he bit his lower and you knew you could just as well be done in that moment, but he kept going “And you wanna know what I really think would go perfectly with that pretty mouth of yours that seems to find the most creative ways to torture me on a daily basis?” he wouldn't take his eyes off you and it only made the temperature of your body rise. If you wanted to shed every piece of clothing you had on then it was entirely his fault. It has always been.

“Please” it came out breathless “Y-yes.”

“A good... big... maybe even one of the biggest you've seen... hard to move...” his words made your eyes widened “Piece of tape over your mouth to keep your from talking for the sake of my poor and very fragile sanity! That's what I'd like to see and oh trust me, my ears would love the silence just as much!”

“And here I thought we were finally getting somewhere.” you made sure to look him straight in the eyes, wanting to get your point across. Dean couldn't look away even if he wanted to.

“If you mean anywhere but the studios, then I'm sorry but I'm not following.”

“Bunch of bullshit, Winchester, and we both know it. Cause I'm sure as all hell that if I were to ask you-” you took a step closer, taking a deep breath and holding his gaze for a few more seconds “If I were to ask you whether you would want to take me right here and now, consequences be damned, you would say yes. And you would because I know you want it, but you've convinced yourself that you never deserve any of it. That's the main difference between us, I know I may not be good enough for someone like you, but I want to give you the best of me and even more after that.”

Dean didn't say a thing for a good few seconds, preferring to hold your gaze and let your words sink in. Not for himself, but for you; because he knew how much you needed it. He knew how much you needed to let it out, at least once in a while. This game you were playing was far from it, he didn't even know how he was holding it together when in reality none of it was playful. When he knew real well what you meant to him.

He pursed his lips when he felt himself choke; your words of self-doubt hurting him more than pushing you back ever could. To think that you were the one not good enough for him was gut-wrenching.

We've made it clear that none of it can happen. We agreed on it, didn't we?

You shrugged, letting out a slow breath. You knew he wasn't going to talk about it. Not like it was the time or place to do so, you didn't even know why you had bothered bringing it up in the first place. But then again what should surprise you more was how you were still holding back.

“And I was ready to go along with it but then... the bathroom door was kinda open and I can't change what you do in your personal time, sure, just like I can't help what I hear.” you responded with a small smirk and a shrug, before raising an eyebrow “Can I, Dean?”

“You-” the way his eyes widened would have made for a priceless reaction as it was, but adding the way he stammered over his words and the fact that his face had turned the perfect shade of red, the color more evident on the tip of his ears, was indeed a sight for sore eyes that made everything worth it. “You- What- How- When-” his eyes moved back and forth, taking your expression in and trying to understand your expression if not the entire situation.

Granted, it was a one-time thing. Barely that actually. And it happened before you could even comprehend it. It was that quick. Not like anybody needed more than half a second to understand things for what they really were. But it didn't last long

Or did it?

Truth be told, you were still not sure just for how long you'd been standing there in the room, the warm steam coming from the bathroom, right through the the slightly open door, finding your skin only to create more goosebumps than the ones you already had. It could have been half a second... but it could have also been much much longer. Maybe the small tear on your lower lip from all the chewing was an indicator but then again a great part of you did not even want to consider it was a possibility. A possibility that you had not jumped to turn around and leave that very same second you realized things for what they were.

You took comfort in the fact that maybe if the roles were reversed he would have done the same. Or that anyone would have reacted as you and frozen in place. But was it that way? Were you merely frozen in place or there had really been more to it?

You didn't even want to think about it for more than a couple seconds for fear of remembering something that would have your entire face on fire in seconds. It was best not to dwell on it. So clearing your throat, you brushed off any thought for when his eyes weren't glued on you, studying your every move. You weren't going to let him get the upper hand in this, even if it was silly to still think so.

Besides, in your defense it was and accident. A lovely if not entirely surprisingly unexpected one.

“Depends... how often does that happen?” you raised an eyebrow, biting the inside of your lip to keep yourself from grinning. Ut the urge quickly died out when you saw Dean's eyes darken and his jaw clench. Not because he was angry, he could never be mad at you as you had come to realize very quickly, but because the comment seemed to bring him back to reality. A reality where he had convinced himself that you couldn't get attached to each other.

“None of your business. But even if it was-” he shrugged, smirking “Still more of an active sex life than yours.”

“Oh yeah, and whose fault is that?” you narrowed your eyes.

He only faked innocence “Don't know what you mean. I'm just the bodyguard.”

“...You're an asshole. That's what you are.” you huffed when he was out of your personal space, shaking your head in disbelief.

“And yet you pay me money. I'd call that a fucking success. Now move your ass, otherwise we're gonna be late.” he motioned with his head.

“Yeah, well that doesn't make you an less of an idiot. I know-” you shrugged, falling into step next to him “I'll get another bodyguard. Most celebrities have at least two bodyguards-”

“Good luck finding the guy with enough patience.”

“Yeah, well, if I do remember correctly, that “friend” of yours is currently not working for anybody. You said you were coworkers before. The cute one with the pretty eyes, what was his name? You know whom I mean, right? The one I first met on the Met Gala?”

Dean scoffed a laugh,playing it off as nothing, though it was mostly to hide the unpleasant shock tat ran through him at the mention of the possibility. Of course he understood which one you meant. “First of, he's not my friend. In fact he's far from it.”

“Oh how could I ever forget? You always speak so fondly of him.” you grinned at Dean who shot you another look. Last time he had spoken 'fondly' of the man was when he had complimented you. It was during the after-party of an event which he didn't care to remember; all formal events were the reason for a headache to say the least. He was there because his boss at the time also was invited.

“Fondly-” Dean scoffed under his breath “You can say that again.”

“Well, yeah that one. My-” you continued anyway, not paying attention to his words “Why can't I remember his name? What's up with me and remembering people's names?”

“Maybe he wasn't so important after all.” Dean shrugged.

“With that kind of smile and eyes to die for? Are you kidding me? That man is, no doubt, the wet dream of at least half the female population and a good part of the male one. He's more famous than his boss. Please, I'd strike every deal with the man just to see hi- Oh, yes!” you exclaimed, jumping for a second “Yes, Steve Rogers!... I think I got his phone, don't I, Dean?”

“Yeah, oh lucky me, you actually do.”

“Splendid! Maybe he will how to put his tie to good use, after all.”

~~~

A/N: I already had ome parts up which in a way inspired more of this fic, the whole au!Dean and flirting is somethingI would like to do more of, maybe with some smut since it’s been a while since I wrote any. The way I did with neighbor!Dean, a mini series of individualt parts. Let me know your opinion and feedback is always welcomed!

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader #dean #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean one shot #dean winchester one shot #au #au imagine #au fanfiction #au one shot #bodyguard #bodyguard!dean #bodyguard!dean winchester #bodyguard imagine #x reader #imagine

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Want to kiss?

Pairing = Poe x reader

Words = 5.2k

Summary = You and Poe are friends. Acting married won’t lead to anything. Will it?

Warnings = SMUT (18+only); semi-public fingering, semi-public grinding, implication of a bj, also language 

A/N =  Prompt no.23 requested by @witchyavenger as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” w/ Poe  and bolded in text

Also i might have concentrated more on the smut, than the plot, so if there are a couple of plot holes, that’s why, im not sorry 

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

You weren’t looking forward to this. 

A small, masochistic part of you was, but the larger part of you, the more sensible part, wanted to scream at the prospect. 

Pretending to be a couple with Poe, to have the real thing so close in front of you, yet knowing that you couldn’t, made you want to cry. In fact, you already had. 

The two of you had been briefed together, and told you would be acting as married senators at a gala. The way Poe’s face had tightened at the word ‘married’, made your chest hurt. He hadn’t said anything, but he didn’t need to before you’d drawn your own conclusions. 

You’d tried not to think about it too much as the briefing had continued, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat, and having to blink a little faster. You’d managed to keep it together until you’d gone back to your room, where you’d immediately burst into tears. 

Poe couldn’t even stand the idea of being married to you?

You knew he wasn’t interested in you like that, but that hurt. Hurt more than you’d anticipated. Poe only had to pretend for a mission. And he didn’t want to do that? Now you’re sitting in front of the mirror, and you blow out a big breath. Not right now. Your make-up’s half on, and you don’t have the time to redo it if you start crying, now of all times. 

And the truth was, it shouldn’t hurt as much as it did. You knew Poe. He was your friend and Commander, nothing more. He’d never given you any indication that he’d ever wanted more, never acted as anything but a good friend to you.  

Now you were in the bathroom of a hotel on Coruscant, and Poe was next door and stars you had to share a bed tonight but you didn’t even want to think about that yet . All you had to do was finish your make-up, do your hair, put your fancy dress on, hope that Poe could bear to pretend to be married to you while the two of you looked for an opportunity to sneak upstairs, break into Senator Sewinn’s office, and gather any incriminating evidence stored there. Simple.

And that wasn’t counting getting out, and sharing a bed with Poe tonight, before your ship departed for the Resistance base tomorrow. 

To put it simply, you were fucked. 

But you’d pushed the emotions away, not wanting to address it. Not wanting to have that horrendous conversation. After all, it wasn’t a crime for someone not to fancy you. 

Now you took a moment for yourself, looking up at the corner where the wall met the ceiling, and exhaling deeply. 

Ok, think. What’s your first job? Make up. 

You took your routine step-by step, finishing your makeup and hair, and pulling your dress on. You took the time to admire yourself in the mirror before you stepped out to face Poe, knowing that he was no doubt going to look absolutely dashing, while not caring either way about your appearance. 

You knew that, except you did look good, even if you said so yourself. You let yourself breathe once more, hands fluttering out any invisible creases in the front of your dress. It had a nice cut for your chest, falling to the floor with a split down your right leg. 

Ok. “Poe?” You knocked on the door before you returned to your room, not wanting to catch him in the middle of changing.

“I’m ready!” Comes the response, and you can’t help yourself, exhaling heavily again before greeting Poe. 

You’d been prepared. Or so you thought.

You’d never seen Poe in a suit before, and it’s more than you could have ever imagined. He fills it out nicely, shoulders looking broader than ever. He’s brushed his hair neatly back, curls subdued for the night. They look darker than ever, strands curling over the back of his collar. Desire and heat are pooling low in your belly, your eyes slow in their movements as they graze over him

He’s freshly shaved after his shower, bronze skin glowing in the yellow light of the lamps scattered around the room. Your mouth is dry, and your breath shaky again. Poe’s looking at you funny, and you must be staring, so you clear your throat, shaking your head a little. 

His tie is slightly to one side, so you step towards him like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Can I-?” Your voice is a murmur as your hands reach out, one going to the centre of Poe’s neck. You straighten his tie, ignoring the warmth of his body below your hands and step back. 

You hadn’t realised how intimate that would feel, how close you’d have to get, and now you feel overwhelmed, your body heating up, your heart beating faster. Poe’s looking at you with a strange look in his eyes, like he can’t quite figure out what your motives are, he can’t decide what you want. 

Only, it’s not unusual, is it? Poe’s always been a touchy-feely person, hugging, holding hands, touching whenever he could, it didn’t tend to matter who it was, or what the situation was. 

Except this feels different somehow, heavier. Like you crossed a line in your friendship that you weren’t aware existed. That the intimacy of fixing Poe’s tie, being this close to his body is teetering beyond friendship. Poe’s still looking at you with this heavy gaze, and maybe there’s something in his eyes, but you can’t bear to meet them, can’t bear to face the rejection you’ll find there.

So you swallow, fixing your gaze on the section of wall just to the left of his face, ignoring how your palms are singing from touching Poe, even through his shirt. They itch to do it again, hungry for more, and it takes all of your self control to stop yourself and to take a step back, widening the space between you. 

“Shall we go?” You’re the first to speak, and at your words, Poe seems to snap out of it, closing down, any softness in his eyes, in his face, disappearing. 

He nods, stiffer than he normally is around you, and you can only hope that he’ll loosen up when you get downstairs. “Here's your ring.” He reaches into his breast pocket and hands you a wedding band, gold and simple.

And you’ve been so distracted by the top half of him that you hadn’t seen his on his ring finger, hanging loosely at his side. You don’t say anything as you slip the cold jewellery on, your heart stuttering at the implication of something so plain. 

Stepping out of your room, you take Poe’s offered elbow, and the two of you start your descent to the lobby. It takes you a while to get used to the breeze on your right leg, where your skin is exposed. The building is an old one, corridors extending in every direction with bedrooms and storerooms scattered in a seemingly random order. The lift is quiet, muzak playing faintly out of a tiny speaker. 

“We’ve got this,” you murmur under your breath reassuring yourself. Poe looks at you, but doesn’t say anything, just patting your hand where it rests on his arm. 

The transformation in him when you step into the hall is amazing. His smile, which you recognise enough to tell it’s fake, spreads across his face, and as you enter, he turns his head to your ear, murmuring, “I didn’t tell you how beautiful you looked before.” 

There’s suddenly no air as you turn to look back at Poe, that familiar grin tugging on his lips. Your faces are close again, like a married couples, and you don’t try to hide the pleased look that’s clear across your face, feeling more flustered than you expected. 

His eyes are encouraging, and you’ve never noticed how warm they are, what a soft brown. They’re lighter than you thought, having never been so close to his face before, dark irises increasing in size as he looks at you, waiting for your response. 

You’re married, remember?

So you press your cheek to his smooth one, with a soft “thanks.” 

You turn back to the crowd, missing how Poe’s gaze catches on you for a second longer than normal, instead concentrating on how no one noticed you walk in. Good. The room is busy already, you and Poe one of the last stragglers arriving. Soft music, not dissimilar to the one in lift is playing, largely drowned out by voices chattering away.

The ballroom is light and airy, yellow lamps creating a warm atmosphere, with a marble floor that causes your steps to click. There’s a bar near the entrance, and a stage to your left. 

The beginning of the night is spent hanging off Poe’s arm, making conversation with Senators about brain-dead topics, Poe’s hand moving to squeeze yours in warning whenever you make a slightly too sarcastic comment, usually about the First Order really having an impact, and how it was about time someone made a monopoly of the galaxy anyway. 

You push down the urge to be more sarcastic, if only to feel Poe’s skin on yours again. 

No one seems to notice, especially not when you start to zone out, looking for opportunities to sneak away. The office had to be around this room somewhere; hours of poring over maps of the building had revealed a lot of empty space around the ballroom. And now Senator Sewinn was walking out of a concealed door in the back right of the room, which had to led to his office. 

Unfortunately, he and a number of other important, puffed up looking peacocks of politicians seem intent to stand right in front of it, drawing, if anything, more attention to the door. 

You huff, unknowingly scowling. What was the point of a secret door when you act like that? You may as well make a sign saying ‘Secret, Do Not Enter.’

“You alright, sweetheart?” Poe’s the one to drag you back to where you are, and you do one of those smug, self-centred couple smiles, one that you’d seen far too often, smoothing out your face. 

“Yes, sorry honey.” You step back from the group, suddenly needing a moment. “If you’ll excuse me.” You direct this to the rest of the group, mumbling something about getting a drink, stumbling away, sure they won’t miss you. Poe’s behind you, his presence both stifling and a comfort. 

When you reach the bar, his hand is on the small of your back, and he’s still so warm. How can his hand spread heat through your body like this? Through your dress? “Hey,” his mouth is by your ear again while you wait for the bartender. “What’s wrong?” 

You shake your head, unsure yourself. “I don’t know Poe. Nothing.” Maybe it’s him. You can’t look directly at him, fearing you’ll combust. 

It’s definitely him. 

But instead, you turn your mouth back to his ear, close enough your mouth just grazes his earlobe as you talk. “Senator Sewinn isn’t leaving the door behind him.”

Poe looks behind you in a casual sweep of the room as you order two drinks. 

When he turns back, his chest is pressing against you now, his arm around your waist, caging you into the bar, and you hope you don’t look as hot as you feel. You practically vibrate under his touch, the urge to push back into him stronger than ever. Poe’s blazer isn’t buttoned up, and it’s almost around you, you can feel the silk of his tie on your back.

Your breath sticks in your throat as he bends to whisper, again. This man is going to kill you. “Good spot sweetheart.” 

Don’t press your hips back into him, you remind yourself, he’s there, but don’t do it. 

You can smell the cologne Poe’s wearing too, the one he only uses on really special occasions and it’s making your head spin. Maybe you need some air. 

You accept the drinks from the bartender, passing over some credits and turning in Poe’s arms, the cold glasses in your palms helping you a little, distracting you from the heat which seems to have settled in your core, pulsing in between your legs. 

Except now you’re facing Poe, facing those warm brown eyes, and are they darker than they were before? Is this better or worse? Face to face, or chest against your back? 

He’s licking his lips as he’s taking the drink from you and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so bad. Breathe, in and out. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll move,” it takes a second for you to tune back in, to realise what Poe is talking about. “Sewinn has to make a speech at the other end of the hall, we’re to move then, when everyone’s distracted, remember?” 

His voice is soft, quiet, and you do remember, that the movements he’s describing are all part of the plan, have been ever since the brief, but this man who’s crowding you into the bar, the sharp edge cutting a vertical line into your back, is distracting you from the mission. 

This mission, which is important for the Resistance. 

The mission, which you can’t fail at. 

And, more than that, you can’t let Poe down. 

He’s not interested, you have to remind yourself when a pang of disappointment shoots through you as he steps back. This is fake, you’re fake married. 

Somehow the reminder doesn’t help. 

You sip your drink, cold liquid shooting down your throat as you look anywhere but at him. 

The introductory section drags. You don’t return to the group you were talking to before, instead choosing to stay near the bar, exchanging the odd observation with Poe, the two of you consistently getting closer than you really need to talk. 

He’s acting more normal now, his smile more natural as he relaxes. His hand has found a home on you, it doesn’t seem to matter where, moving from your shoulder to your back to your waist. You don’t dare mention it, afraid he’ll stop, when that’s the last thing you want. 

Sometimes you feel like a black hole, desperately looking for love and touch, and sucking up whatever you can find, always needing more. You hate to think that maybe that’s what you cherish most about your friendship with Poe - that even as his friend, he touches you, and hugs you, and gives you a kiss. Although it does spark the idea of Poe being cuddly in bed, that if you ever went out with him, he would always try and have his hands on you. You allow yourself these soft dreams for a moment, before tuning back in before Poe can notice. 

You’ve nearly finished your drink when the quiet background music starts to fade, and to your delight Sewinn begins to move. The crowd easily parts for him, and you wonder briefly what it is about him that makes people so responsive. What would it be like to have that kind of power? 

You grasp Poe’s hand, feeling his calluses on your palm when he makes his move, pulling him to stay with you a second longer. “Wait for him to settle,” you say, knowing there’s no rush, yet. 

And so you do, the two of you standing shoulder to shoulder, pretending to listen to the senator’s drivel. And then he turns, looking for the trophy he’s using to make his announcement more convincing, and you pull Poe along the back wall, still holding his hand as you lean against the hidden door and allowing a grin as it clicks open. 

And you’re in. 

You blink in surprise when you realise it’s really been that easy. You’d expected at least a locked door to get in the way. But no, you’re standing in the Senator's office, looking at a large desk, footsteps suddenly muffled by the plush carpet and still holding Poe’s hand. 

You drop it like you've been burned, not daring to look at Poe as you go to the other side of the desk. There’s bookshelves around all the walls, creating a slightly dark and gloomy look, especially in contrast with the light ballroom next door. 

You start going through the drawers as Poe plugs in the holostick that he’d been given, downloading files for later reading. Most drawers contain useless information, files on drinks needed for the party, a bill for the band later, business cards and other junk. There’s one locked drawer you can’t open, even when you try and pick it. 

You give it a kick in frustration when it still doesn’t open, earning a snicker from Poe. “Did that help, sweetheart?”  

You scowl at him, not bothering to answer, and determined to not mention the fact that your foot really hurts now. “How long left?” you ask, deflecting instead.

“Two minutes,” is the answer and you nod, going to one of the bookshelves, hand idly tracing down a number of spines. None are in a language you recognise, and when you turn back to tell Poe so, you find him leaning against the desk and watching you. His legs seem longer at this angle, thighs … bigger. And you’ve seen this man with a harness wrapped around his legs like a second skin. 

You wonder what it would be like to … You shake your head before you can finish that thought, mouth dry even as you remind yourself that Poe’s your friend. Your friend. “I can’t read any of these,” you tell him instead, watching his head snap up to meet your eyes as you talk. 

And then a lot of things happen very quickly. 

Before Poe can respond, the holostick beeps, he unplugs it, just as the door to the ballroom clicks open. Before you can react, he’s closing the steps between you, holostick clasped in a fist, crowding you into the bookshelf behind you. When he speaks, it’s a low, quiet, “I’m sorry,” his forearm coming to rest next to your head, and you can smell him again, eyes falling closed like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The scent is familiar and grounding, and even as your heart rate picks up, you feel calmer, Poe’s other hand holding your cheek. His head turns, your noses bumping and his lips are so close to you … he’s going to kiss you.

And then he stops, except he’s moving like he is kissing you, and you realise his hand is connecting your two faces and there’s someone else in the room, so you don’t think, you just react. You widen your legs so Poe can step between them, and you let out a breath, nearly but not quite grinding on his leg, moaning low in your throat as one of your hands flies to the nape of Poe’s neck.

“Excuse me!” The guard’s voice is sharp, and cross, which is fair enough, you later reason, when you think that you wouldn’t want to find two people snogging in your boss’s office. Awkward one to report, that. 

Poe is slow to separate from you, his eyes dark when he opens them, and you're breathing embarrassingly fast considering he didn’t actually kiss you. He turns, standing just in front of you, a protective stance, whether he realises it or not. 

“Sorry, sir,” his voice is more hoarse than normal, and you never realised what a good actor Poe is. You sheepishly smile at the guard who just huffs and ushers you outside, grumbling about how disrespectful the two of you are and warning you not to do it again. 

The two of you stand in the hall, Sewinn just wrapping up his speech. Your head is spinning and you can’t think. 

Poe seems entirely unaffected by the whole thing, winking at you as he grins, joining in with the clapping at the end of the speech. You copy him, but you feel like you’re moving at half the speed of everyone else, your whole body screaming to be surrounded by Poe again. 

“Are you alright?” Poe asks you, and is it that obvious that you aren’t? You can only nod, not trusting your voice to be steady. “I’m sorry … about, in there, I just-”

“Stars, Poe.” You interrupt, not wanting to hear it. “It’s fine, it was good, quick thinking on your part.” You force a smile, and if Poe notices, he drops it. “We did it, though,” You add after a second, the silence between you somehow worse. 

Poe grins, and you know you’ll be ok, the breathless, hot feeling gradually fading, your senses tuning back into the room around you, hearing the band setting up, everyone moving around you. “We did.” Is all he says, extending his hand in mock performance when the band start playing. “May I have this dance?”

You allow yourself to relax, graciously accepting it. “Why, kind sir, of course!” The two of you are giggling as you start to dance, neither of you aware of what the steps are, just concentrating on having a good time. The music isn’t particularly great; the stuffy sort that politicians think make them look classy, when really it just makes them look like pretentious assholes. 

You both get bored of this pretty soon, Poe losing his jacket as the two of you get warmer and warmer, dancing ridiculously in a corner. 

When your feet begin to hurt you pull on Poe’s hand, taking him away from the dancefloor. The hall is hot, and you want fresh air. You feel flushed, the cold air nice on your warm cheeks. 

You’re walking along the corridor back to your room, talking about the best song you’d play to start a party. Poe’s jacket under hanging off his arms, hands stuffed in his pockets. You try not to look directly at him too much as the two of you discuss better songs. “Do Ya Think I’m Sexy is one that would definitely get everyone going.” Poe says it likes it’s the simplest thing in the world, his answer the definitive one, while you snort. 

“You only think that because you want an excuse to ask everyone that all the time. No - Gimme, Gimme, Gimme is the best. Hands down.” Maybe you’re just as bad as he is. “Rasputin is another good one,” you add, “there’s dance moves and everything.” 

“No!” Poe’s voice is low, exaggerating his horror by dragging out his vowels, being over-dramatic now, “the best one for dance moves is Rock the Boat.” 

You ruffle his hair in that way he hates. “You like that because you can sit down!” Your laughter is interrupted when Poe’s head snaps up, looking towards the end of the corridor.

You pause, looking for the cause of the change in Poe’s attention. Hearing the voices approaching you, he grabs your hand, pulling you into an alcove, pulling the curtain across. There’s hardly room for the two of you to breathe, bodies pressed together, wall cold on your back as you listen to the footsteps coming closer. 

“... and Sewinn is going to want his whores there.” A nasal voice, coming closer. 

You stop breathing, glancing at Poe, who shakes his head. “The usual ones?” The question is spat by a deeper voice, while the other person presumably nods. “Fuck! They think they have more influence, always looking down on us, when Sewinn listens to us.” 

Poe’s hand fumbles around yours, fingers intertwining and squeezing gently in comfort, sending electricity up your arm. The same deep voice continues down the corridor, passing you. “And he just can’t get enough of them, especially that boy with the awful fashion sense, I mean really...” 

The voice fades gradually, passing you in a blur in the corner of your eye. You determinedly concentrate on looking at the fluttering curtain, a shade of blood red, suddenly too shy to look at Poe. 

This mission has been a lot. Working with Poe, who you have a desperate crush on, pretending to be married, and now standing far too close for comfort while you listen to people talk complain about influence in the Senate. You can’t hold it in any longer, the two of you dissolving into giggles, bodies collapsing forwards, Poe’s jacket landing on the floor with a soft whump.

And maybe it’s the release of this tension but when you finally compose yourselves, leaning back as much as you can in the small space even though you could leave, or maybe it’s the fact that his thumb is now massaging your palm, but the words tumble out before you can think. 

“Poe I like you.” He hasn’t let go of your hand yet, which is a good sign, right? But he also hasn’t said anything, so you keep talking. “Like you, like you, I mean.” Why can’t you shut up? There’s something unreadable in Poe’s eyes. “Like I would quite like to go on a date with you sometime and maybe -” 

Eventually Poe stops you with his free hand, covering your mouth for a beat, enough to get you to shut up. Is he closer? You didn’t think it was possible. His face is unreadable, even as he looks into your eyes, considering something “Do you want to kiss as bad as I do right now?” 

Your mind goes blank, your mouth dropping open as Poe removes his hand, going to his tie, loosening the knot. “What?” you just manage to stammer out. 

Poe just tips his head, like he’s considering the best angle to kiss you. “I like you like you too, sweetheart.” He’s teasing, but it’s fond, you realise with a rush of affection. All night he’s been looking at you like this, with fondness. “Can I kiss you?” He’s almost begging. 

Words escape you. You nod, unable to breathe, unable to talk anymore. Poe leans towards you, tilting his head, eyes closed, long lashes fluttering on his cheeks. At the last second, you remember to close your eyes, kissing him back. 

His hand moves to your hip, pulling you towards him, where you can feel him, already half-hard under his trousers, pressing against you. Poe slides his hand under the split in your skirt, warm hand on your skin, pulling your leg up as his hand travels down your thigh, settling into the crook of your knee, opening your legs and pulling your core closer to him.  

You catch on, wrapping your leg happily around his waist, not caring how exposed you must be, gasping when you grind against him again, and Poe’s even harder now, the seam of his trousers catching on something pleasurable between your legs. You’re already more aroused than you really have any right to be, considering he’s hardly done anything to you yet, but you’ve been thrumming at a low level all evening. 

You’re still kissing, even as he grinds against you, pushing you more into the wall behind you, and you feel overwhelmed, already, in the best way possible. All you can hear are your combined breaths, breathy sighs that fill the small space. You feel hot, nearly overheating, the cool wall balmy on your flushed skin behind you. 

You forget where you are, what you’re supposed to be doing, Poe taking over all your senses. His tongue is in your mouth, teeth biting at your lip and all you can do is let him. Your free hand moves to his hair, tugging gently and feeling a pull of satisfaction in your core at his low groan. His hair is soft, and thick and you don’t want to let go, the sudden image of pulling on his hair when his head’s between your thighs jumping to your mind’s eye.

You finally let go of his hand so you can hold onto his shoulders, the crisp white shirt becoming crumpled in your grasp and helping you balance on one leg. Poe’s now-free hand pulls your skirt fully up around your waist, no doubt causing some creases and teases you, playing with the hem of your underwear, fingers tracing circles into your hip.

You groan into his mouth, you can feel yourself getting wetter, and your hips unconsciously buck into his hands, wanting more. When Poe pulls back, resting his forehead on yours, you’re both breathless. His eyes have blown wide, and you’re sure yours look the same. You’re panting a little, even as Poe keeps his movements regular, grinding his dick into you, moving his hips up and adjusting his position with every moan you let out. 

“So good to me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing down your neck now. “You feel so good, you … urgh … you don’t even know how much you turn me on…” He sounds breathless, even as he continues to talk. 

And then he surges up, hitting your clit and you can’t help it, crying out. Pleasure’s building in your body, all centred around Poe, and you want more of it, more of him. You can’t see Poe’s face, but you feel the smirk he presses to your skin as he does it again. And then his hand that’s playing with your underwear moves, pulling it away from your skin, dipping his hand down and stroking one long finger through your wet folds. 

The moan you let out is broken. “Poe…” That’s all it takes for him to push his finger inside you, motioning gently towards himself. You can hear how wet you are as a second finger joins the first, a steady squelch in time with his movements. His fingers are thicker than yours are, and you feel dizzy at the thought of being stretched on his dick. His palm is grazing against your clit with every movement, steady and repetitive. 

Poe’s fingers feel so good, moving inside you, gently building you higher and higher while he watches your face, kissing your jaw, your ear. Your moans come out in breathy whines, repetitions of his name, and soft oh’s of pleasure. You can only hold onto him, trusting he’ll catch you if your leg gives out, only half-aware that anyone could walk past and hear or see Poe utterly destroy you. 

You start to moan more and before you even realise what’s happening, Poe’s greedily kissing you as you fall apart from his fingers. He keeps kissing you as he works you through it, your pussy clenching around his fingers, his tongue in your mouth while your hips buck forwards still. 

You’d feel embarrassed if it didn’t feel so good. “Yes, by the way,” His voice is low as he moves to kiss the soft spot under your ear now. “In case that wasn’t clear.”

You can only frown as Poe removes his fingers from inside you, glistening wet and placing them on your lips, pushing gently until you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around his fingers, your own tart taste filling your mouth. “What?” You mumble, Poe’s digits muffling your voice. 

“I’d quite like to go on date with you sometime too.” 

You nod slowly, your post-orgasm haze lifting slower than normal. “Can we go to bed first?” Poe’s fingers are still half in your mouth, and you suck on the tips a little for emphasis, widening your eyes. And then you get an idea. “Or, actually,” you purr, removing your leg from Poe’s waist, and gently pushing his shoulders so he hits the wall behind him as you drop to your knees in front of him. “Maybe we should stay here for a minute.” 

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

this is the suit I was imagining, but the hair was all wrong for Poe. also I know that there are technically no suits in Star Wars canon, but I wanted to write it this way so

#poe dameron #Poe Dameron x reader #poe x reader #star wars #poe dameron fanfic #poe fanfic #Star Wars fanfic

[nightfrostshadow]

A Magical Night

Villain tossed and turned in bed as she tried to sleep. Her bed was extremely comfortable no doubt but sleep eluded her. She took a deep breath as she lay and stared at the ceiling deep in thought. Finally, she gave up trying to sleep and slowly lifted herself up. 

She swung her legs over to the side of the bed and getting up, she made her way to the window. There was moonlight filtering in through it and a cool breeze was blowing. She felt invigorated as she felt it on her face and looked out,  drinking in the sight of the moon shining in the starry sky. It was a lovely night.

Villain decided that if she couldn’t sleep, she might as well go out. The cool breeze and the soft moonlight was tempting her. It was the perfect weather for a fun night-time stroll, run or flight.

She smiled as she made up her mind, reached over to her nightstand and pulled out her hair tie. She smoothed her long dark hair into a high ponytail and tied it up. With a flash of her powers, she was ready to go. She had decided to use her villain’s outfit while going out because it had a mask that covered her face and safeguarded her identity. Besides it was very comfortable and convenient given the fact that she had made it using magic so all it took was her powers to put it on and take it off.

Usually when she would be in the costume, she would braid her hair since it was more convenient to fight in. Now it was different she was just going to enjoy the night so a ponytail worked just fine. As an afterthought she also quickly grabbed a coin and pocketed it.

She walked onto her balcony as she leaned against the rails just relaxing in the lovely breeze. 

Without warning she gripped the railing with both her hands and swung herself up onto it with little effort as if she’d done it a hundred times. Which she had. She grinned as she perched herself on the railing and looked at the sky. She felt so free. Being able to fly was pure happiness for her. She never had to fear heights and could just live in the moment.

 She stood up and stepped off the rail. The wind rushed against her as she started to drop before she soared above. She spread her hands and enjoyed the freefall for a second before flying over the rooftops just looking at the quiet streets below. The breeze rushing against her face. The thrill of the flight as her heart pounded with adrenaline. She shouted out of pure joy and flew higher occasionally coming lower to see her favourite spots. The park. 

Lit by the soft glow of the streetlamps along with the silvery glow of the moonlight beams, it was a tranquil spot. She flew closer to the little bridge that had been built in the park over a little water body that was part of the bigger fountain. 

It was always full of people during the day time because it provided a marvellous view of the fountain at the park which was one of the major attractions for children. They would love to throw coins into it while making wishes. Villain smiled as she looked down at the coin in her hand. However, it was a different story at night. She could enjoy the view all by herself. Although, Villain’s expectations failed her. As she started to descend, she spotted a figure.

She froze mid air as she tried to see who the person was. She approached stealthily. It was Hero. She inwardly sighed with relief. It would have been a bit awkward if it had been a civilian who would no doubt recognize her as the villain.

She grinned as she landed gracefully on the bridge next to him. Hero jumped in surprise as he had been gazing at the sky, too engrossed to notice Villain sneaking up behind him. He winced slightly as if the sudden movement had caused him pain.

Hero, unlike Villain, was not in his costume but was dressed normally. She stared at him questioningly. The little wince had not escaped Villain’s sharp eyes. She decided to ask later. “What brings you here? Alone and late at night? Judging from the way you’re dressed this wasn’t something done on an impulse, you clearly planned it.” Villain walked over and placed her hands on the bridge rail as she gazed at the sky and smirked, “Someone broke your heart?”

Hero looked up at the stars as he laughed. “I’ve never given my heart to somebody so that’s out of the question.” He continued looking up at the moon which was a full moon that particular day and it was a yellow white glowing orb in the sky. It looked slightly larger than usual.

Hero smiled sadly, “Though I admit it would be nice to enjoy this view with a special someone. This is such a beautiful sight.”

Villain silently took in Hero’s words as she looked around her. It was true. That night was a particularly beautiful night. It had a magical feeling in the air. She was magical. She should know. This was a different kind of magic. One that had something to do with the beauty of nature. She smiled as she turned to look at Hero. “Well, you aren’t alone now, are you? I guess you could say I’m special because come on. We both know I’m very special.”

Hero stared at her in surprise as he chuckled, “You’re a villain so I guess that’s a special enough identity. Unique and one of a kind. At least in this neighbourhood.”

Villain laughed, “Exactly! That’s me! The friendly neighbourhood villain.” At that they both burst into quiet laughter. Villain stared as she noticed Hero laughing but also the slight tightness around his eyes indicating he was in pain.

She racked her brain to remember whether he had been this hurt in their last fight. Hero noticed her deep in thought and tried snapping her out of her reverie.

“Villain?”

She shook her head as she looked at him and decided to ask, “What’s the matter with you? Why does it seem like you’re in pain but yet I’m sure it isn’t anything major but I can’t for the life of me understand what it is.” Slow realization crossed her face as an idea dawned on her. “Unless…”

Hero laughed slightly, “Its soreness from my recent workouts. I saw how perfect you were and,” he turned away and looked at the fountain as he spoke, the tips of his ears turning red. “I saw how fit you were and I wanted to achieve that level of fitness so I’ve started working out.”

Villain grinned; her hunch had been correct. “How fit I am?”

Hero nodded earnestly. “For example look at your arms Villain. Your costume enhances how fit you are. It compliments you. It makes you looks like a lithe panther.”

Villain looked bewildered as she glanced down at her arms. Her costume was sleeveless and completely black. It did have a kind of coat which was a mix of a coat and a cape but it was the sleeveless kind because she hated anything with full sleeves. That was the benefit when you design your own magic suit. The sky was the limit and she could do exactly what she liked. She knew her arms were sculpted and toned. They were strong. Which Hero no doubt knew because he had been punched quite a few times during their fights.

She looked up at him, he was still facing the fountain and she grinned as she took in the sight of his flushed ears. “I exercise everyday Hero. Its how I became this strong and fit. I know exactly how you feel now. The soreness in the beginning.” She laughed as she remembered a time that was quite a while ago. It had been ages since she had felt it. “It hurts yet it makes you feel accomplished. The only pain I ever liked. The satisfaction that a workout has worked muscles you hadn’t worked before is a lovely feeling.”

Hero slowly turned his head back towards Villain. Oh, his cheeks were flushed too. Was he that embarrassed?

Villain smirked as she said, “If you would like to, we could work out together on Saturdays. Having a workout buddy helps you know.”

Hero flushed even more. Villain almost laughed. Cute.

She couldn’t resist adding more, “If you don’t mind, we could also come here to watch the night sky once a week you know. Since you’re in need of a special someone. I can keep you company till you find that someone.”

Hero opened his mouth to speak but was too shocked to say anything. His heart was pounding and his head was swirling with thoughts. Finally, he managed to piece together a single word, “Absolutely.”

Villain grinned, “Perfect. Then I’ll see you Saturday 6 ‘o’ clock in the morning. Hopefully you’re an early riser.”

Hero stared as he thought to himself. Even if he wasn’t he could become one just for this reason. He smiled with happiness as he watched Villain turn away from him and close her eyes for a moment before she spun the coin in her hand and tossed it into the fountain.

Villain turned around and flashed a brilliant smile at Hero before winking at him and then she took off. Up in the air in a second and she was gone.

Hero looked around as he smiled. Today had been a magical night after all.

They met every Saturday. One day which slowly turned to more days. More nights at the park. Days turned to months and it was only a matter of time before Hero gave her his heart. Villain, devious as she was, took care of it for Hero made her happy. For some unknown reason she felt a little surge of happiness when she thought about him. Her heartbeat quickened. Little did she know that she too had already given him her heart. However, there was no rush. They had time to figure out everything together. Embark on this journey. This new feeling called love.

#villain #hero #villainess #hero and villain #villain and hero #magical #moonlight #stars #Dee look I finally wrote something which did not take place at sunrise or sunset haha #I was going to make this platonic before I realised most of my stories are so #hero x villain #villain x hero #villainess x hero #besides the scene is very magical #this was written late once again haha #its got a very unique concept in it haha #workout #falling in love #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends #enemies to workout buddies #haha #powers #flight #fountain #a magical night #my writing #exercise