#and if all of this is just coming together with it being so dreary outside

[kentopedia]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ BY ANY OTHER NAME — dazai osamu

summary . . . dazai comes home after a week away, and you stay up late to surprise him with a gift.

contents . . . sfw, f!reader, pm boss dazai, dazai's pov, fluff, pet names, husband dazai <3, my unofficial valentine’s fic — 2.3k

notes . . . IM BACK !!!! he can stop whining about being neglected now (i missed him)

Dazai rubs his eyes as he walks in through the front doors of the Port Mafia headquarters, two of his men trailing behind him. The lights have been dimmed in the lobby, just bright enough to read through a sheet of paper without squinting. There are very few people loitering in the building, but that isn’t unusual for three o’clock in the morning. 

The sight of the lobby, as abysmal and dreary as it is, soothes the ache that’s been lingering in Dazai’s chest. It’s been a while since he’s been home; the past week was dedicated to doing business outside of the city. But it feels like it’s been even longer than that since he’s gotten to kiss you.

Dazai had called you every day when he was away — of course he did. His every thought revolves around you. It’s just that a few phone calls are nothing compared to being close enough to touch you.

“All set then, boss?” Chuuya asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks every bit as tired as Dazai feels. None of them had gotten much sleep on the mission away, and the weariness is finally settling down on them.

Dazai nods and waves his hands, dismissing Chuuya. “Get some rest. But don’t think that you can miss out on the meeting tomorrow just because we got back late,” he hums, and though Chuuya’s face twists up in annoyance, a fraction of a grin lingers on Dazai’s own. “I expect you there bright and early.” 

“Asshole,” Chuuya mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. And, in all honesty, Dazai is too tired to even quip back. 

He watches as Chuuya and the rest of his team disperse. Some of them head to the elevator, choosing to remain under the safety of the Mafia’s ownership. Some leave the building, heading to their private homes, outside of the city.

Dazai doesn’t really care where they choose to reside, as long as they remain loyalty to him and the Mafia. So far, he hasn’t had any issues.

With a quick scan around the room, he notices that there are still eyes on him. Dazai refrains from yawning, even as the sleepy feeling creeps up on him, an almost uncontrollable strain of the muscles. It’s a simple bodily reaction, but it feels too much like an emotion, a weakness that he could reveal. How tiring it is, to be the boss, with every eye scutinizing him, searching for a mistake. 

He’s a lot more relaxed around the members he’d been a child with; they disliked the previous bosses more than they dislike him, but some still miss when Mori was alive. Some, he worries, know they’ll never be able to land a finger on Dazai — you are the much easier target. 

It’s a fear that has never left him alone, not since the day he fell in love with you. 

When his eyes slide to the corner of the room, he notices that Higuchi and Gin are still downstairs, conversing in whispers in front of a corner table. 

His eyebrows wrinkle together. They’re supposed to be with you, still watching out in case anyone decides to make a move before you’re back in his arms. 

Dazai heads toward them, straightening his lips into a scowl. He knows that neither of them particularly like him; their feelings are nothing short of neutral. But they are fiercely loyal to you.

As much as he’d like to snap at someone in his weathered state, he knows neither of them would ever do anything to put you in danger. He also knows that if you’d begged them to be left alone, they would’ve complied. 

“Higuchi,” Dazai says, his voice flattened, serious, as he tries to hide both his exhaustion and his confusion. “Is something wrong?”

The blonde straightens, her expression changing quickly from an easy smile to something anxiously stoic. Her eyes shift from him to Gin, and though she always puts on a very brave face, Dazai knows how much he intimidates her — just as Mori did before him. 

“Sorry, sir,” Higuchi says, and she steps to the side, a space between her and the other woman revealing you asleep on the table. “We thought you’d be back earlier. She wanted to stay down here and surprise you, but it got late, and…” Higuchi trails off, noticing that Dazai is already distracted, his expression softening. 

It is, perhaps, the reason that so many in the Port Mafia choose to win you over. There is very little that Dazai forgives, very little that he lets slide. You, though, have a heart that is much softer, a gentleness that he has never once in his life possessed. The bleeding organ caged within his chest is made of blooming flowers when it comes to you, ones with petals he’d let you pluck off without a single protest. 

“Oh,” Dazai says, the syllable nothing more than a puff of air, parting his cold lips. His eyes soften, body relaxing, every ounce of tension draining from his shoulders. He feels lighter, those sickening thoughts of blood and misery evaporating from his mind like a cartoonish puff of smoke. “I see.”

One of your arms is stretched out across the table, the other tucked under your head, creating a right angle from your wrist to your elbow. There is a dark shade of lipstick on your mouth, that has now smeared to your cheeks. Only one of your eyes is visible, the other pressed into your bicep. 

You’re a mess, but you’re so human; angelically beautiful, but not without the faults of a mortal. He loves you so dearly that his chest squeezes, and though Gin and Higuchi are watching, he knows—and they know—that he’s never been good at hiding his feelings for you. 

“Thank you,” Dazai says, tapping Higuchi on the shoulder. She seems to flinch at the sudden contact, but relaxes, and nods. “For staying with her.”

Higuchi is surprised by the acknowledgement, but she just bows her head, laughs, almost awkwardly, and backs away from him. “I consider her a friend. I don’t need to be thanked.”

“It’s polite to thank people for the work they’ve done for you,” Dazai says, and though he’s, perhaps, being uncharacteristically nice, you’ve softened him like butter, making him sickeningly saccharine. “Is it not?”

Higuchi opens her mouth, then draws her eyebrows together before shutting it. Better to let it go than question Dazai’s newfound benevolence — something he will spare only so often.

But she surprises Dazai with a small grin, her bangs falling into her eyes as she tilts her head just to the side. “Your darling wife has trained you well,” Higuchi says, much braver than she’d been months ago, braver still, than she’d been under Mori’s regime. 

Dazai thinks he’s grown too soft in his years with you. Though, one scan of your darling, sleeping figure erases any regret he could ever feel. 

He’s surprised by Higuchi’s reaction, but he doesn’t let it show, a smile sliding smoothly on his face before a sharp laugh escapes from him. “I’ve just grown to trust you more, Higuchi. I know that you would never betray her.” 

Higuchi smiles; there’s a fresh understanding between them that wasn’t there before. 

Dazai loves you, he loves you dearly, but he is lucky that so many others do too. How many people has he won over in the Mafia, just by being associated with you? How many have sworn their loyalty to him, only because they’re forever loyal to you? 

He supposes it doesn’t matter. You’ve got a pretty ring on your finger to prove that you’re as much his as you are the Port Mafia’s, and he doesn’t intend on ever letting you go.

Gin and Higuchi bid him a good night, and his exhaustion finally starts to overcome him, the stickiness in the back of his throat giving way to pain, his eyelids thin and scratchy. 

Dazai runs his hands over your head softly, stirring you back awake. It must be painful, the position you’re in, and he can only imagine how stiff you are. When he touches your cheek, you make a soft little sound under your breath; Dazai nearly melts.

“Sweetheart,” he hums, dragging his fingertips across your arms. “Let’s go.” 

It takes a few seconds longer before you jolt a bit, eyes fluttering open softly. You’d been in a surprisingly deep sleep, despite the lights on in the room, the rustling sound that follows the people walking around.

“Osamu?” 

Dazai hums an affirmation, and then he kisses you, just the corner of your mouth, the only part of it that he can reach. “You fell asleep,” he says, just above a whisper, kneeling slightly as you make your way to a seated position. “Time to go upstairs.”  

But you’re still half-asleep, and you fall forward, into his arms, throwing them around his neck. You smell something of fresh soap and roses, overwhelmingly sweet. Dazai almost can’t believe he’d been able to leave you for so long.  

“You’re back!” you mutter, and though it’s full of excitement, its also said through a yawn.

Dazai smiles, and breathes you in. “I am.”

“I missed you,” you kiss his shoulder, the juncture between it and his neck. “Sorry I wasn’t awake when you got here.” 

He runs his fingers up your spine and laughs, shaking his head. “It’s the middle of the night, my love. I would’ve preferred you were asleep, anyway.” A pout forms against his neck; he quickly remedies his words, and kisses the top of your head. “But I’m happy to see you. I was certainly surprised.” 

You laugh, breathless. “Not much of a surprise with me passed out on the table.” 

Dazai starts to pull away, but notices the bouquet of bright red roses on the table. It’s large — dozens and dozens of flowers stuck into the paper. They’re your favorites, ones that he always gets you, the stamp on the packaging from the same florist he shops from. His eyebrows wrinkle together. 

“Who are the flowers from?” he says, and though he tries to keep his tone unassuming, he knows how it sounds… Irritated, and perhaps a little too much like a man willing to skin anyone alive. 

You pull your head away from his shoulder and glance behind you, to the bouquet that is laid carefully against the table. “Oh,” you say, your eyes darting back down to your hands, in a way that is almost bashful. “They’re from me, actually. For you.” 

Carefully, you pick them up and hand them to him, smiling sideways and awkwardly.  

Dazai’s eyes widen. He glances at the flowers being presented to him, stares at the golden and diamond ring upon your finger, the vulnerability in your irises as you reach out the bouquet. His doubt is only obvious for a second, but it is enough to have you questioning your surprise. 

You frown, withdraw, and begin to set the bouquet down. “Do you not like them? I know they’re more of something I would like, but I just thought… Well, I love when you buy me flowers, Osamu. And you just have so many things, I thought this would be more—”

Dazai smiles. He is sick with affection, devastatingly in love with you and everything that you have to offer. You could have given him nothing, and he still would have stared at you with stars in his eyes, because you are the universe that he revolves around. You could’ve given him the world, and it wouldn’t have mattered, because he wants you and you alone, and no gift can compare to the way that you love him. 

He kisses you, catches you in the middle of a sentence, steals the air right from your lungs. The taste of you is even sweeter after so much time apart, and he curls his fingers into your scalp, traces your cheeks with his thumb. “I love you,” he says against your mouth, whispers the words, even though everyone around them sees his feelings on a flickering sign about his head. “You’re so sweet to me, even though I probably don’t deserve it.” 

You’re taken aback, and then you shake your head, rolling your eyes. You must get tired of how often he says it, how often he questions why you love a man like him. But it’s true. You are everything that’s right with the world, and Dazai is the opposite. Fate must’ve been on his side to match him with a soulmate that is everything he truly needs. 

“You spoil me too much,” you say in return, yawning again in the middle of the sentence, your hand covering your mouth daintily. “I never get the chance to do the same.” 

Dazai thinks your love spoils him enough, but he won’t bother you with anymore of those thoughts. Your eyes are drooping closed once more, and if he doesn’t get you upstairs soon, you might just sleep on the table for the rest of the morning. 

He takes the bouquet in one hand, and drags you to your feet with the other. You sway a bit, then nestle into his side, curling your arms around his waist tightly. “I’m sleepy, Osamu.” 

“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you walk to the elevator in silence, and he realizes that he never properly expressed his gratitude. “Thank you for the flowers, angel.” 

You don’t respond, but squeeze him a little tighter. He smiles, and the elevator chimes. 

⤷ thank you sm for reading! reblogs appreciated!

#bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x you #dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x you #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai osamu x y/n #bsd x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai imagines #osamu dazai imagines #dazai osamu x you #dazai x fem reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #pm!dazai #dazai fluff #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #rylie writes ₊˚🎧 #my love osamu ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass]

Sleepy | L.N.

Lando Norris x driver!reader

Summary: A rainy day in the paddock results in a sleepy cuddle.

Warnings: fluff<3

Word count: ~0.9K

^^

The rhythmic sound of raindrops echoed through the McLaren garage, creating a cozy ambiance that contrasted with the dreary weather outside. Lando and you had just finished half of your laps when the heavens opened up, forcing you two to retreat from the track.

You both rummaged through your bags, pulling out hoodies and blankets to combat the chill in the air. Once settled, you both sank into the sofa, each engrossed in your own world of social media. The monotony of the rain against the garage doors created a hypnotic atmosphere, pulling you both towards a drowsy state.

Lando, trying to fight his sleepiness, glanced over at you, "So, Y/n, how do you think the convention's gonna go?"

"Probably the same as always. Lots of technical jargon and a few jokes from Zak." You, with a small smile, replied.

Lando chuckled, "True, true. But hey, at least we get to show off our dance moves at the team party later, right?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, "Speak for yourself, Lando. I'll be the one pretending not to know you when you break out those so called 'moves.'"

As you two bantered, the exhaustion from the day's activities began to catch up. The hum of conversation around you, combined with the gentle pitter-patter of rain, created a soothing lullaby that nudged the two of you into deep sleep.

As sleep took over, the atmosphere around you two seemed to shift. Unbeknownst to Lando and you, both of your bodies gravitated towards each other, seeking warmth and comfort. You found yourself resting your head on Lando's chest, hands comfortably folded between you two, while Lando's head found a natural spot against your own.

It was all in search of some warmth. Right?

Meanwhile, Carlos, entered the garage, catching sight of the unexpectedly adorable scene. A mischievous smile spread across his face as he discreetly snapped a picture of his favourite duo. Carlos couldn't resist the urge to wipe an imaginary tear from his eyes, fully embracing his parental role, “They grow up so fast…” he smiled a brilliant smile to himself.

Unable to contain his excitement, Carlos hurriedly went in search of other drivers to share the precious sight of the young pair cuddled up together. He rounded Charles, Max and Daniel up and brought them back to witness the unexpected scene unfolding on the small sofa. The men huddled together, huge smiles adoring their faces.

Carlos whispered, "Look at these two. They're out like lights. They’re so cute!"

The team erupted in silent laughter, thoroughly entertained by the unintended humor of their sleepy drivers. Despite the attention, Lando and you remained in your peaceful slumber, wrapped in the warmth you both provided for each other.

The dim light in the garage hinted at the passage of time as Lando and you stirred from your impromptu nap. You, feeling a mix of embarrassment and shyness, gently extracted yourself from Lando's arms, apologizing almost instinctively.

"Sorry, Lando. I didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that," you spoke, cheeks tinged with a rosy hue.

Lando, however, wasn't ready to let you go just yet. Feeling the chill in the air after being robbed of your warmth, he instinctively pulled you back into his arms, wrapping them securely around you.

"Come back here before I freeze without you. And no need to apologize. It's freezing out here, and you make for excellent warmth," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. You couldn't help but smile, finding comfort in his embrace.

As you two nestled closer to share body heat, a flicker of light caught your attention. The two of you turned your gaze toward the television screen mounted on the garage wall, only to see yourselves, still wrapped up in each other sound asleep, broadcasted to the world. A video of your cozy moment had found its way onto the internet.

Your eyes widened in surprise, and you glanced at Lando, expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Does that bother you?" you asked, your voice soft as silk to Lando’s ears.

Lando, unfazed, shook his head. "Not one bit. Let them see. It's not every day the world gets a glimpse of McLaren's dynamic duo catching some Z’s in the garage," he replied with a grin.

You pondered for a moment before smiling back at him.

"You?" he questioned you back, his eyes searching your own. One thing for sure, Lando did not want to overstep your boundaries.

"Not one bit," you echoed, looking up at Lando from you position on his chest, a content smile playing on your lips.

Quick to reciprocate the sentiment, Lando leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. It was a tender moment that the two of you enjoyed silently.

With a shared smile, you both settled back into comfortable positions, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. As Lando closed his eyes, leaving you with your thoughts, you couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected turn of events. The garage may have been colder now, but in each other's arms, both of you found a warmth that transcended the temperature around.

^^

A.N Just a lil something I cooked up because I should be studying for my exams but I choose happiness <3

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris x reader imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff

[bornonthesavage]

Steve Harrington was in a rut. That’s all this was. Ever since he’d split with Nancy, everything had seemed to blend together into one dreary day after another. It didn’t help that he was, effectively, alone. Sure, he had a gaggle of middle schoolers who he sometimes drove around or hosted at his big empty house, but it seemed a bit pathetic to call them his friends. Maybe Dustin was. But other than that, he had no one. And as January bled into February, that fact was becoming increasingly depressing.

At school he sat alone, tucked away into a far corner of the cafeteria where he could go easily unnoticed. He sometimes caught sight of Nancy as she walked with Jonathon, probably to go eat in the library or outside. Which sucked. But he was fine. He was. It was just… he needed a distraction. Something to take his mind off it. So far, he’d come up with nothing.

When there weren’t interdimensional beings crawling through the walls, the sad truth was that Hawkins was unbearably boring. Not much in the way of distractions, between the same old people he’d known his whole life and the nonexistent party scene. Well, there were parties. None that he had any interest in attending. Not anymore.

And he’d tried dating. Because despite the fact he was no longer King, he was still Steve Harrington. Plenty of girls were interested in getting the whole experience. Or maybe they just wanted to snag a good-looking rich boy. Either way, it didn’t matter to Steve. The only problem was that not one of the girls he’d gone out with had done anything to ebb this constantly growing boredom. It had only been two months since he’d jumped back into the dating scene, and he’d been on nine separate dates. Every single one was a failure.

So maybe he’d take a break from that. It was probably just too soon. He’d felt ready, but maybe he was wrong. That still did nothing to provide an adequate distraction. He could always try and find new friends. But that begged the question. Where could an eighteen-year-old guy find friends around his age in a school full of dickheads? It was a conundrum.

Steve slipped out of the cafeteria early, eager to get to his locker before the rest of the student population descended upon the halls. Which, maybe avoiding every other person within his age group seemed counterintuitive. But he’d met most of them, and for the most part, he had no interest in being friends with any of them. Maybe he could branch out. Look into some of the social circles he’d yet to dip his toe into. The drama kids didn’t seem too bad. Maybe a little dramatic, but that was the point. Or hell, even some of the band kids seemed kind of cool. He could always—

His inner dialog was interrupted when his shoulder came into contact with another student who had been walking in the opposite direction. A student who had been deeply engrossed in the papers he’d been reading, too distracted to notice Steve approaching. Which, to be fair, Steve had been too distracted to notice him as well. As their shoulders slammed together, papers and notebooks rained from the other student arms, sliding across the linoleum floors.

“Jesus Christ! Seriously? I wasn’t even—” The other student looked up, and Steve immediately recognized him as one Eddie Munson. The school freak and drug dealer. Eddie stopped as soon as he saw Steve, his face shuttering for a second before morphing into a scowl. Before Steve could formulate a response, Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, then dropped to his knees to begin collecting his papers. He heard him mutter “Figures,” under his breath.

Steve could take a wild guess at what that meant. He didn’t remember ever doing anything personally to Munson, but he’d definitely never done anything to stop his ex-friends from bullying him. Which was pretty much as bad. But he wasn’t that person anymore, and he was determined to prove that.

He dropped down beside Eddie and began to slide some of the notebooks that had made it to his side of the hall closer. He’d only managed to grab a couple when Eddie’s voice stopped him.

“Harrington, what are you doing?” His tone was sharp and cautious, as though sure this was some type of trick. Which, yeah, Steve sort of deserved that.

Steve held up one of the papers, which looked like a history exam. “Helping pick up the stuff I made you drop. What does it look like?”

Eddie just blinked at him. “Why?”

“Uh, I don’t understand the question. Why wouldn’t I?”

But Eddie was shaking his head. “So, what? You shoulder check me, make me drop all my shit, and then pick it up? Is this some new type of jock power play?”

Oh. Eddie thought he’d done it on purpose. Well, that sucked. Probably said a lot about what most of the school population thought of him. Why would anyone want to be his friend when they all thought he was a huge asshole? Steve swallowed and ducked his head to hide his hurt expression. It wasn’t Eddie’s problem.

“No, um, sorry. I didn’t run into you on purpose. I just wasn’t looking where I was going. So, sorry about that.”

The frown slid off Eddie’s face, replaced with a mixture of confusion and mistrust. “Really? King Steve, apologizing to little old me? I never thought I’d see the day.”

Steve snorted and shook his head. “Dude, I’m not a King anymore. Can’t be, when I don’t have any friends. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

Eddie hummed. “Yeah, I thought I saw Hargrove sitting on your throne, surrounded by the little lap dogs. Surprised you haven’t tried to take it back.”

“Nah,” Steve said with a shrug. “I gave that shit up on purpose. I don’t want it anymore.”

He continued to scoop up papers and notebooks, doing his best to straighten them out, while Eddie continued to stare. It was slightly unnerving.

“Why not? It seemed like it must have been pretty nice at the top.”

Steve shrugged, not making eye contact. “It was, for a while. But then someone opened my eyes to what… to what bullshit it all was. Once it was seen, it couldn’t be unseen. So, I think I’ll be happy hanging out at the bottom for a little while.”

When he finally looked up and met Eddie’s eye once more, the other boy was staring open mouthed. As if he were seeing something he couldn’t quite believe. It made Steve self-conscious, like maybe he’d revealed a little bit too much of himself. He cleared his throat.

“I really am sorry for running into you.”

Eddie blinked a few times, then shook his head. “Uh, no, it’s fine. Accidents happen. Or at least that’s what my uncle told me three times a day growing up. I was a chaotic kid. Knocked lots of stuff over.”

Steve chuckled. “That was nice of him. Kids should be allowed to make mistakes without it seeming like the world is ending.”

He handed off the papers he’d collected, then scooped up the last folder. It fell open in his hand, and he caught a glimpse of the book inside. “Oh, Dungeons and Dragons! You play?”

Eddie’s eyes looked like they were about to fall out of his head. “You… You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, the kids I babysit play it. They never shut up about it, actually, so it would be kind of difficult for me to not know about. It’s got like, Demogorgon’s and Mind Flayers and shit, right?”

Rather than answer, Eddie made a choked off sort of noise in the back of his throat, as if he wasn’t getting enough air. Steve raised a hand to rest on his shoulder.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

That seemed to jolt Eddie out of whatever fit he was having, as he suddenly bolted upright into a standing position. “No, yeah, I’m good. Totally cool. Super cool. Look at me. When have I ever not been cool?”

Steve straightened up and raised an eyebrow, letting a smile grow on his face. “Yeah, totally. You seem really chill.”

That earned him a glare, though it looked like Eddie was also fighting a grin, which made Steve laughed. “Don’t mock me Harrington, or I’ll deduct all the points you’ve earned over the last couple minutes.”

“Oh, well we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

He handed back the folder, which Eddie snatched back. “You’re sort of a bitch, you know that?”

“Yeah, duh. I can’t go losing all my charm now, can I?”

“Charm, he says,” Eddie muttered. “Just watch where you’re going next time, alright Harrington? Not all of our beloved peers will be as benevolent as I.”

“Not sure what benevolent means, but yeah, I’ll do my best.”

He flashed one more grin, which Eddie seemed to take in with a sort of dazed stare. Without another word, the other boy spun around and continued on his way in the other direction. That was when Steve noticed the black bandana that must have fallen out of his pocket. He picked it up and was about to call after him when the bell rang shrilly overhead. Almost immediately, the halls began to fill with students.

Steve looked down at the black square of cloth. It was nothing special, but he was pretty sure he’d seen it hanging off the metalhead a few times. Maybe it had sentimental value. Well, he would just have to find a time to return it. After all, hadn’t he just been thinking that he needed something interesting to distract him? A new friend to take his mind off everything? Huh. Maybe Eddie Munson was exactly what he’d been looking for.

Part 2

#steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #Eddie and Steve #eddie munson #steddie fic #ficlet #This is going to be a THING #Part 1

[leaentries]

too young for this | mark estapa

summary: when one night guarantees forever.

warnings: accidental pregnancy, swearing, angsty themes, smut, p in v, unprotected sex

wc: 3.1k

masterlist - next

One time. That's all it took.

You had never been one to go to parties, but your friends decided that you just needed to go. Having been cooped up for the past week after your complete douchebag of an ex dumped you over text.

What an ass. 

You and Richie had been together for two years. Two fucking years and all it took was a quick swipe of his thumbs to end it. It happened on a random tuesday, you had just left your anatomy lab when you felt your phone ding. You looked down smiling as you saw his familiar name pop up. Your smile fell immediately as tears began to make your vision blurry. Even with slightly impaired sight, you could still make out the three words he amounted to in your relationship.

Rich<3: we are done. 

So it's safe to say you haven't been the jolliest the past week. Maybe a party is what you need to bounce back. Staring at the ceiling of your dorm, you contemplated your options. Ultimately, you decided to give in to the relentless begging of your best friends. Besides, your slutty outfits were practically screaming at you to put them on. Afterall, Richie never showed you off, so you might as well do it yourself. 

Peeling on the familiar top and bottoms, you couldn't help but smirk as you passed your bathroom mirror. For the first time in over a week, you actually felt like yourself. The you before Richie. Overcome with newfound confidence, you quickly sent a text to your groupchat.

You: im ready babes! meet me outside?

Jamie: oooo yesss girl! me and alice are walking out now! 

Lydia: yall wait for me! i'm just touching up my hair. i'll be out in 5

Alice: btw we are so getting you dicked down tn y/n/n

Rolling your eyes at the last text, you grabbed your bag and headed out to meet your friends. Lydia ended up taking longer than 5 minutes, causing you and your friends to have to sprint to catch the last campus bus. Living across campus really sucked sometimes. 

As you searched for empty seats on the bus, you felt your phone vibrate from your bag. 

Mark: hey y/n! alice told me youre coming to the party tonight?

You: hi marky

You: yes i am! im on my way with the girls now

Mark: great

Mark: ill be waiting for you 🫣

Mark had always been one of your closest friends. You two met in your mutual college management class freshman year. Alice sat next to you and the three of you quickly became very close. Richie seemed to have a major problem with Mark early on in your relationship. Of course Mark being Mark, he didn't give a shit what your bitchy boyfriend thought of him. To be honest, Mark never liked Richie. So when you called him in tears that dreary tuesday afternoon, Mark was ready to practically murder him. 

The squealing of the bus breaks snapped you out of your phone. You put your bag over your shoulder, grabbing onto Jamie as she passed you. You and your friends made a short walk from the bus to the house. The music was blaring loudly, as people were spread far and wide around the property. A few different games were scattered about, a group of guys yelling in distress as they were clearly losing their cornhole game. 

You pulled out your phone, sending a text to Mark letting him know you were there. Within seconds, you saw the large boy make his way out onto the front porch. His arms immediately wrapped around you as you ascended the steps. 

“ ‘m so glad you’re here y/n/n” his voice was muffled in your hair. 

You smiled at the feeling of your full body being engulfed by him. Letting you go, Mark’s hand slipped down into your own.

“I am so so sorry girls, but I’m gonna have to take y/n with me.” Your friends giggled amongst themselves, causing you to send a confused look their way. 

“Oh no worries, Mark! I hope you have a fun time!” Alice replied, overly excited. 

Fun time? Deciding not to think much about it, you let yourself be guided by Mark’s muscular frame. Even in just a plain t-shirt his tense, thick muscles never failed to show through. Mark turned his head slightly, looking over his shoulder to check on you. You sent him a quick smile in return. He managed to weave his way through the dense crowd and into the kitchen, where a few of his roommates were. He entered the kitchen, never letting go of your hand.

Luke and Ethan greeted Mark quickly, enthralled by the view of the football game from the tv. Upon noticing you by Mark’s side, they both sent suggestive smirks towards the two of you. Confused by this for the second time, you turned to Mark. Tilting your head up to meet his eyes, not failing to notice the light blush that took over his feature.

“Why are all our friends acting weird?” You said in a low voice, so only Mark could hear you.

“W-What do you mean?” He chuckled nervously, “I think they are acting just fine.” Giving him a slight glare, you rolled your eyes, turning away from him slightly. Your gaze fell on the crowd, seeing many familiar faces in the dancing group. Although, your cheerful attitude quickly diminished as you caught sight of a certain brunette. Mark noticed the change almost immediately, turning to follow your stare. Richie was just off to the side of the main group. Typically, it wasn’t new to find him at these parties, but what was new was the blonde he had his tongue shoved in. 

A lump formed in your throat. You forced yourself to look away, the pain from the past week hitting you like a freight train. 

Mark's jaw ticked, his hand gripped yours tighter. He looked down at you “Do you want to leave, pretty girl?” His voice was soft, a stark contrast from his burning eyes. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head no. You were not gonna let Richie control you, he doesn’t deserve that power anymore. 

“I want to dance. Come dance with me, Marky.” Mark was surprised by your request, but led you to the dance floor regardless. 

Heat gripped your body like a vice, making you aware of how little clothes you were wearing. You let your body press up against Mark, arms reaching to wrap around his neck. Mark found his hand gripping your full hips, pulling them to meet his own. You leaned your face up, only to practically be touching noses with Mark.

The air felt thick around you two. Moving your hips against his, Mark held back a groan. 

“Got to be careful, pretty girl. Don’t want you to start something you’ll regret.” Mark’s chest pressed closer into your round breasts. Mark could feel himself grow stiff in his shorts at the feeling. Swallowing harshly, you met his gaze. You gently pulled his ear down to your lips.

“I could never regret you, Mark.” 

Richie was long forgotten as Mark gripped your wrist tightly, dragging you up the stairs. He took you to his room, closing the door forcefully, not forgetting to lock it. Mark’s chest heaved, almost like he was out of breath. He pinned you to the back of the door, bringing his forehead to rest on yours.

“You gotta tell me to stop, baby.” He whimpered into your lips. Throwing all caution to the wind, you pressed your lips against his, hard. A moan escaped your lips at the force of the kiss. Mark’s hands began to grip every part of your body he could reach. He wanted you, all of you. He cradled your face, turning your body before walking you towards the bed. The back of your legs hit the mattress, as Mark reached down to grip your plushy thighs. He sat you on the bed, beginning to trail kisses down your jaw.

His right hand traced from your thigh, over the expanse of your torso, taking time to tease the valley between your breasts. His calloused fingers took place around your throat, squeezing slightly. The lack of oxygen sent your brain into a frenzy. Your hips bucked up into his, grinding against his thick cock. He placed his other hand on your hip to keep you in place. 

“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted this, pretty girl.” He mumbled into your neck. “How bad I need you.” 

He smashed his lips into yours once again. The kiss was desperate and sloppy, showing the amount of pure need and want between you two. Mark shoved his tongue into your welcoming mouth, seeking its warmth.

You were becoming restless, the ache in your core increasing with every push and pull of Mark’s hips. 

“Please Marky,” you whined, “Want you, fuck, want you so bad.” Your breath hitched as Mark changed the angle of his hips. His cock was pressing deliciously into your throbbing clit. 

“Okay, okay, pretty girl.” Mark pulled away, taking his warm body with him. A small whine began to leave your mouth, but was cut short when he hooked his finger around your shorts. 

He dragged your panties and shorts down in one go, too impatient to wait. Your hands traced down his toned front, tugging on his own shorts. Once the both of you had eagerly removed the remaining clothing, Mark had begun to line up his cock with your entrance, teasingly dragging his tip along your slit. “Oh fuck, Mark please don’t tease.”

Mark smirked at your pathetic voice. 

He began to ease his heavy cock into your core. You moaned loudly at the stretch. “Fuck me!” You bit your lip in an attempt to keep your voice down. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I plan to.” Mark pushed the rest of the way in, releasing a breathy moan at the feeling. He dropped his forehead on yours, giving you a moment to adjust to his size.

Mark was admittedly the biggest you’ve had, much bigger than Richie. Reaching spots you never knew existed.  “I won’t move until you tell me, baby.” The notion was small but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest.

Nodding your head, “I’m good, Marky. You can move.” At this, Mark began to slowly drag his cock out of your pussy, till just his tip remained inside. He paused for a moment before plunging back in, setting a ruthless pace.

Your moans echoed through the room, Mark’s headboard slamming against the wall. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Mark groaned. "I could be a better boyfriend than he ever was." His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises the next morning. You threw your arms around his body, nails scraping down the wide plain of his back. Angry red trails lined the hard muscle. You dug your teeth into Mark’s shoulder as his pace increased ever so slightly. 

“ ‘m not gonna last, pretty girl.” Mark squeezed his eyes shut, in an attempt to hold off his orgasm. The sound of your moans in his ears made it almost impossible. He brought one of his hands from your hip to rub harsh circles on your clit. 

 With the added stimulation, you felt your core tighten impossibly fast. “Shit, Mark. ‘m gonna cum,” you panted, “fuck, gonna cum all over your big cock.” Your orgasm hit like a tidal wave. 

Searing pleasure overcame your senses, your walls pulsating rapidly around Mark’s dick. Mark felt himself lose all control, releasing into your warm pussy. His body stilled as he came, a loud groan ripping through his throat. He collapsed on top of you. You laid with Mark’s head in the crook of your neck and your hand playing with his hair. As the two of you basked in post-orgam bliss, you felt a wave of drowsiness hit you. A loud yawn escapes your mouth.

Mark lifted his head to look into your eyes, “You tired, pretty girl?” You nodded slightly. He felt his heart soften at your droopy eyelids and pouty, swollen lips. “You are so fucking beautiful.” Your eyes widened at his sudden confession. You hid your face behind your hands, becoming bashful like he wasn’t just balls deep inside of you.

Mark chuckled, placing a gentle kiss to the back of both hands. “C’mon lets get cleaned up, baby.” He slowly pulled his, now softening, cock out and pulled on some boxers. He walked into his bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth. Mark gently began to clean around your sore opening. Once he finished and put away the cloth, he gave you one of his t-shirts to wear.

One of the things you loved about Mark was how big he is. Even if people consider you “bigger,” his shirts still fit you oversized. You took the shirt from his hands, pulling it over your head. Mark motioned for you to scoot over, allowing him to lay down. He pulled your body on top of his, almost immediately closing his eyes. 

“Goodnight, pretty girl.” You smiled as you laid your head on his chest, “Goodnight, Marky.” 

❥.

The following week went by in a blur. You were able to hide the fact that you and Mark hooked up from most of your friends, other than Ethan. That little shit did not hesitate to chirp you both the next morning. Although you and Mark are “seeing” each other, you haven't made anything official. But you didn’t feel pressured either. Everything had been going smoothly, you continued with your normal everyday routines, except for the part where you have been staying with Mark every night.

Your roommate, luckily, has been out of town for the past two weeks. So you have been able to remain inconspicuous thus far. Being with Mark was so easy, so genuine. You wondered how you ever even ended up with your ex when Mark was there the whole time. But alas, everything good always comes to an end. 

Your alarm went off as per usual, Mark’s arm gripped your body tighter to his, “Don’t go.” He whined. You turned your body to face him, taking time to study his tired features. Even with sleep clouding his eyes, he still managed to look as handsome as ever. You hit snooze on your alarm, deciding that your writing class can suck it. 

You closed your eyes, basking in the morning bliss with Mark, but before long, you found yourself pushing out of bed making a b-line for the bathroom. You kneeled down in front of the toilet, before emptying the contents of your stomach. You heard footsteps hurriedly follow behind you, as a hand came to hold back your hair. 

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let it out.” Mark soothed, using his other hand to rub your back. 

Once you had finished, you slouched back. Your body became overly weak after the energy it took to expel your dinner. Mark sat next to you, letting you lean up against him. He brought a hand to your forehead, feeling for a temperature. His eyebrow furrowed, “You don’t feel hot.” He looked down at your face, to find your eyes closed. His chest hurt at the sight of you so weak. He gently helped you up, putting you back in bed. “I’m gonna skip class to take care of you. okay, baby?” He pulled the comforter over your shaking body. You shook your head in protest. Although in your state, it wasn’t as much of an effort as you thought. 

Mark went downstairs quietly, as most of the house was still asleep. When he returned he brought a glass of water and a cold rag. “Apparently, we do not have any medicine. I guess Luke used the rest of it last time he was sick. I am gonna go and pick up some more, will you be okay here?” Mark couldn’t hide the worry laced in his tone. You gave him a weak smile and a small “thank you.” He leaned down to place a soft kiss on your forehead, before slipping on a hoodie and making his way to the store.

Laying in the peaceful room, your slumber was interrupted by the sound of your alarm. Hitting snooze became your worst enemy. As you turned on your phone to exit the alarm, you saw a notification from your period app. You tapped it, opening the calendar. Panic took over your body. 

Period late for 8 days

You quickly sat up, thinking of what to do. There was no way you could be pregnant. It was impossible. Denial flooded your mind, until flashbacks to the night of the party tore through the facade. You needed to take a test, asap. Knowing you couldn’t go to the store, since Mark was there, you did the next best thing. You called Jamie. 

You knew for a fact Jamie kept emergency pregnancy tests in her dorm. Girl has her priorities. Jamie raced to the house as fast as she could, not believing what you said over the phone. You told her just to walk in and come to Mark’s room since everyone was still sleeping. 

You sat on the bed, stressing out, when the bedroom door opened. Your eyes darted up and your breath hitched. Jamie's head poked around, your body relaxed. Jamie looked at you expectedly. You let out a sigh, ‘Look, it just happened.” She rolled her eyes, “You just happened to fall on Mark’s dick?” 

“I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you, it just all happened so fast and we didn’t want to ruin anything. But it might not even matter at this point, because I might be fucking pregant.” Your eyes began to well, the thought of losing Mark was too much to bear. Jamie came up and wrapped her arms around you. “Don’t apologize, here,” She handed you the test, “Go take it and we can go from there,” Taking the test in your hand, you walked into the bathroom. 

After doing your business and peeing on the stick, you put the cap back on and set it on the counter. You set a timer for 3 minutes. You slowly sank to the floor. Never in your life has three minutes seemed so slow. Your phone finally went off, causing you to abruptly stand up, slightly losing your balance in the process.

You stared at the test, “Well? What does it say?” Jamies asked through the door. Your eyes remained on the test. 

Pregnant 1-2 weeks

Well, fuck. 

#mark estapa x reader #mark estapa #mark estapa x chubby!reader #too young for this m.e #umich x reader #umich hockey x chubby!reader #umich hockey #michigan hockey #luke hughes #ethan edwards #leawrites🍀

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Neige x Reader: White Beaches and a Spring Morning

Summary: The Ramshackle prefect is finally able to get a full week off from school after four overblots. Determined to enjoy their time to the fullest off campus, they set out to explore Sage’s Island, starting with the island’s southern beaches. However, it seems that our prefect can never catch a break, as they find an RSA student crying and upset. Unable to just look away, they set their sights on comforting him and helping him have a good time outside of school.

Word count: just under 3k

Tags: fluff, getting together (not officially though), dates, romance

Warnings: none… unless suave reader is a warning… reader being too hot lol

Author’s notes: this was inspired by a tumblr post by @sorbertisfruity and I loved it so much that I decided to start writing it. Also this is my first time I’m actually writing and posting my creative work, so I just ask that people are kind. Thanks and enjoy!

Leaning forward with the wind whipping through your hair, you fly down the mountain path away from Night Raven College. The engine of the magic wheel roars behind you, as music blasts from the speakers. Finally, you were free! After months of work, you finally got a week off. Of course, you had to blackmail Crowley by threatening to expose the multiple overblots. Nonetheless, he conceded to your requests in the end. Now, you’ve left your worries and Grim temporarily behind in favor of a relaxing day at the beach. 

Pulling up to the sandy shore, you park the magic wheel you’d borrowed from Ignihyde and look out at the sight before you. It was a nice change of scenery compared to the dreary mountain Night Raven College sat atop of. The morning was crisp and clear with the sea breeze wafting from the ocean. The beach was empty. You were here on a weekday after all. You grab your bag from one of the compartments and head off toward the tide.

The sandals on your feet sink slightly into the sand as you search for a more secluded area to place your bag. After walking along the coast, you catch a glimpse of NRC’s rival school, the Royal Sword Academy. It was almost blinding with its tall white spires that were tipped with blue. Overall, the vibe is much brighter than NRC’s gothic horror aesthetic.

“Wonder what their facilities are like,” you murmur to yourself, “Maybe I can secretly get a tour of the school and request a transfer while I’m at it.”

You chuckle at the thought of your friends’ outrageous reactions to your fictional transfer. Just as you finish the thought, you hear a loud sob. Furrowing your brow, you pick up your pace. Even on your day off, you never catch a break, you internally sigh. You blame your upright and well-meaning nature, but you shrug off the thought as you come across an alcove in the rocks. 

You find a boy huddled up against the stone, sobbing to himself. He’s wearing a familiar white uniform jacket, signifying that he’s from the Royal Swords Academy. You’re unable to see his face as he’s tucked it into his knees. Only his ruffled black hair shows. Next to him lies a black beret and the dirt and skid marks on his uniform make it obvious he ran out of the academy. 

Coming closer to the cave-like area, your footsteps are masked by the sound of soft waves lapping against the coast. 

“Hey,” you call out, “Are you alright?”

The boy’s head snaps up. He stumbles to his feet and begins making rapid apologies. His voice has a light, airy quality to it that cracks as he trips over his words. 

“I—I’m fine. Thank you for asking. I—I should probably go. I don’t want to bother you—“ 

He isn’t able to say anything more, as his foot catches on a nearby rock and he begins tumbling forward with a squeak. Moving on instinct, you catch him by the waist, pulling him in to support his weight. Pressed up against him, you note that he has a slim but fairly toned waist. He’s also a bit taller than expected. 

“Are you ok?” You ask, “That was pretty close. It might be a good idea to sit down for a while before moving again. Sorry, I startled you. I was just concerned whenever I heard someone in distress.”

Pulling away slightly, you’re able to get a glimpse of his face. His eyes are the first feature that stands out to you. They’re soft, doe-like, and innocent. His brown eyes are a little puffy and red around the edges from crying, but it doesn’t detract from their soft allure. Your eyes flicker down toward his lips. They’re tinted a natural red, as he chews on them. Suddenly, you become acutely aware of how close the two of you are. You can feel his ragged breath on your cheek, as you take the time to observe him.

He glances down and away from you, tears still in his eyes, as continues to gnaw on his lip. Whether from the anxiety of being caught crying or the flustered embarrassment of being so close, you’re not sure. You suspect it might be both. However, when he turns his cheek, the light catches a glimmer of wet tears that have already streaked down his face. Before you have time to think, you reach your hand up to cup his cheek and wipe it away. 

Blinking, you realize that you just performed a somewhat intimate gesture and you move your hand away. 

“Sorry, I just wanted to help. Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask.

He stares at you with wide eyes and touches the place where you wiped his tears with his hand.

“…No, I didn’t mind it.” 

His voice breaks, then in a smaller tone, he comments, “It was nice.”

“That’s good,” you chuckle, “My name’s (Y/N), and you?”

He hesitates for a second before replying, “Neige.”

He watches your reaction intently, looking for any signs of recognition, but when there is none, he relaxes slightly. 

“I wouldn’t mind sitting down again,” he tells you. 

He starts to pull away to sit back down when you tighten your grip on his waist, stopping him. 

“Hold on, I have a towel. Let me lay it down first,” you state. 

Rummaging through your bag, you pull out a towel that you stole from Heartslabyul. The print on the fabric is a dead giveaway. It’s littered with multicolored card suits. Spreading it out, you plop down on the fluffy towel and turn to Neige, who comes to sit next to you.

“Again, sorry for scaring you earlier. I just heard you were in distress and wanted to make sure you were ok,” you repeat, inspecting for any physical wounds. “Physically, you seem fine. Are you in emotional distress?”

Playing with the edge of the towel, he glances up at you before looking away. His grip tightens on it and he nods. 

Neige hesitates before saying, “You know, if you have other places to be, you can go do those. You don’t have to stay with me. I’ll be fine–”

Before he can get any further, you cut him off, “Neige, I know we just met, but I’m not going to leave someone who’s upset behind. You seem sweet and I want to get to know you. It would be nice to get a new friend.”

You put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He looks up at you with wet eyes and hiccups slightly, trying to hold back newly formed tears. Your eyes go wide and your body moves on autopilot. You open your arms to offer a hug. 

“Hey, do you want a hug? Will that make you feel better?”

Neige hesitates before nodding. Given your cue, you envelop him in a warm, tight hug. Cradling him, you rub small circles on his back and whisper words of comfort. 

He breaks. Any semblance of wariness or guard that he had up before crumbles against your kindness and small persistence. He cries so hard that his whole body shakes against you. You squeeze tighter and you can tell that you are the only thing keeping him together at this moment. He ends up clinging and clawing at you as if you’re his only lifeline in the vast ocean. He sobs harder at your gentle approach to comforting him and a few broken words of gratitude spill from his mouth. 

“—Thank you, thank you so much. I never— I never got this growing up. I always had to put on a cheerful face to not worry my— my family. This means so much to me. Thank you, thank you (Y/N).”

You clutch him tighter, running a hand through his hair, as he sobs into your shoulder. You feel for him. You understand the struggles of having to carry everyone else’s burden even though it shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place. You ended up solving and resolving each overblot with only some of your classmates and practically no teachers. No responsible adults were around to help fight Riddle, restrain Leona, stop Azul, and punish Jamil. It had been getting exhausting. Thankfully, you got a week to yourself, but this wasn’t about you and you turned your attention back on your new friend, Neige. 

You allow him to get all the tears, sorrow, and pain out of his system. When his sobbing slows down and his breathing starts to even out, you reach into your bag to pull out some tissues, nudging Neige’s face with them. 

Upon feeling the tap, he looks up from where his face was buried in your shoulder. Tears and snot run down his face, and he takes the tissues with a small smile. 

“Thanks,” he breathes, taking the tissue and blowing into it.

After giving him some water, snacks, a lot of tissues, and more cuddles, he’s much more relaxed than he was earlier. His tired eyes are unable to focus on anything specific, as they flutter to stay awake. He continues to lean on you for support.

Chuckling, you ask, “Wanna lay down?”

Letting out an almost incoherent murmur of approval, he clutches onto your clothes, before asking, “Promise you won’t leave?”

You give him a soft smile that he’s unable to see with his eyes closed, and you lay the two of you down on the towel. You rest beside Neige, as he makes himself comfortable, nestling into your arms. 

“Of course, Snow,” you answer, “I’ll make sure to protect you if anything is out to get you.”

He nuzzles into you with a smile filled with sweet dreams, as he drifts off to sleep. After a while of listening to the ocean waves lap against the shore and feeling the slow steady breathing of the person next to you, you also find yourself lulled into the land of dreams.

~~~~~~

“You’re already skipping school. You might as well take the day off to relax and enjoy yourself,” you persuade, “Besides, would you leave your new friend behind to hang out at the beach by themselves?”

You look at Neige with playful and expectant eyes. He lets out a sigh and a small smile slips through, as he concedes. 

“I suppose taking one day off wouldn’t hurt.”

You give a cheer.

“Race you to the ocean!” you shout, scrambling to your feet. 

Neige squeaks in surprise, before he latches onto your ankle, tripping you. Landing on your hands with a small oof, Neige rushes past.

“Ok, pretty boy! I see how it is,” you cackle. 

Launching yourself from the ground into a runner’s sprint, you catch up to him. Wrapping your arms around Neige’s waist, you use your momentum to spin him around a couple of times before flinging him in the opposite direction of the coast. He screeches at the unexpected attack and begins laughing as he stumbles back, trying to regain his balance. Without hesitation, you turn back to the destination and bolt toward the finish line. 

The tempered ocean water hits your feet, slowing you down, as you raise your fists and cheer.

Neige jogs over with a stuttering laugh.

“Alright, alright, you win. Are you happy?” He asks with a grin.

“Immensely,” you beam.

~~~~~~

“We’ll have a [favorite ice cream/gelato flavor] and biscoff gelato, please,” you order from the ice cream parlor you found. 

The man behind the counter nods with a smile and begins scooping out your request. Neige’s eyes are wide as they turn to you.

“You don’t have to pay for mine,” he insists, pulling out his wallet. 

You stop his movements by putting a hand over his.

You hold eye contact with him, as you say, “I like and want to spoil you. You’re sweet, so getting you something sweet only makes sense. Please let me do this.”

Neige’s face heats up and you watch his brain malfunction for a few seconds, before turning away. You take the opportunity to pull out your card and give it to the owner of the shop, paying for your snacks. 

“That’s so sweet of you to pay for your boyfriend like that,” the owner comments, swiping your card.

Grinning, you wrap an arm around Neige’s waist, tugging him closer to you. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t treat himself that often, so I have to make sure he gets what he deserves,” you answer, winking at Neige.

Neige’s hand rushes to cover his blush as it spreads to the tips of his ears. The owner coos at you two, handing you your ice creams and card. You thank him on your way out, still attached at the hip with a flustered Neige. 

~~~~~~

The magic wheel zooms through the streets of Sage’s Island, and the sun casts a golden glow on you and Neige. He’s pressed right up against your back, clinging onto your waist. It’s warm and comforting. You’ve been riding aimlessly together for about half an hour, but seeing the sun setting, you figure you should take him home. 

Sneaking a glance at your companion, you watch his wide-eyed gaze explore the mountainous scenery. You smile before speeding up. You feel Neige’s chest move with twinkling laughter. He squeezes you tighter and leans in. Today has been a far better day than expected.

The sun has partially set in the sky as you pull up to the gates of the Royal Swords Academy. Putting the vehicle in park, you dismount the wheel, before offering your hand to help Neige off. 

“Here you go, sweetheart,” you say with a wink. 

Neige’s breath catches, as a hand comes to block his mouth in embarrassment. He places his other hand in yours, using it to get off. With both feet on the ground, he looks at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. You might as well have, you note, as the stars begin to peek out.

“When will I see you again? I want to see you again,” he pleads.

You blink in surprise at such a bold statement, before chuckling. 

“Well, I can come back tomorrow if you want me to. You know I have the week off,” you offer with a fond smile.

“Really?! You would do that? That wouldn’t ruin your vacation, would it?” he clarifies at a rapid pace.

You laugh, leaning against the magic wheel. 

“Honestly, Neige, if I didn’t leave NRC’s campus, I’d probably get dragged into some kind of shenanigans with Ace, Deuce, and Grim,” you explain, “I love them, but they’re a handful and I want a break. I would much rather hang out with you. It’s more peaceful and relaxing. Besides, I had a lot of fun today and I like getting to know you.” 

Neige’s mouth opens in a small oh, as his gaze softens. He clasps his hands in front of his heart, simply gazing at you. For a few moments, you just hold each other’s gaze, content and comfortable in the silence. You reach out to tuck a loose strand of hair away from Neige’s face. You let your hand linger, cupping his cheek and rubbing your thumb against it. His eyes droop and he nuzzles into your hold. Unable to resist, you draw him closer and loop an arm around his waist, before remembering–

“Your beret,” you murmur, “Let me get it for you.”

Moving to open one of the compartments on the magic wheel, you grab Neige’s hat only to settle back into the space in front of him. Placing the beret on his head, you let him adjust it. As he finishes, you notice unfamiliar red lettering along the border. Leaning in, you take a closer look.

“Someday my princess will come,” you quote.

Smiling, you continue, “Mmm, that’s cute. That sounds like something you would say, Neige.”

Your thumb runs over the embroidery, following every swirl of cursive on the beret. Your eyes flicker down to his to realize that you’re rather close. You can’t help but take a peek at his lips. They’re red, just like when you first met him, but this time they're slightly parted. You find yourself locking eyes with Neige’s brown ones once again, drawn together like magnets. Neige presses his body more snugly against you, watching for any signs of discomfort, as he rests his hands on your hips. You play with his lapel, before moving up to his shoulders and finally wrapping your arms around his neck. You give a playful smile, as you draw closer, and you feel Neige’s quiet laughter against your lips. Eyes sliding shut, you lean in. 

Before you can kiss, however–

“Neige, Neige! There you are!” 

“Do you know how much you made us worry?”

“We couldn’t find you after you ran out of the dorm– *achoo*!”

“And you–you left your phone at the dorm, so we had no way to contact you!”

“We looked everywhere in the academy, *yawns* even my favorite napping place.” 

“I can’t believe you skipped class. You should take us next time.”

“Toby, what are you talking about? We’re not supposed to skip class.” 

“Oops, sorry, I forgot.”

Neige lets out a whine, as his head falls against your shoulder. With the moment ruined, he hugs your waist tighter in protest. Laughing, you pat the poor boy’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. You take a look past him to identify the source of the shouts.

You spot seven short figures toddling their way over to the two of you from RSA’s gates. You’re unable to make out the fine details in the diminishing light, and instead opt to look back at Neige, his pitiful form still draped over you. These must be the seven dwarves that he was talking about earlier; the ones he grew up with. Based on their behavior, they seem to care about him just as much as Neige expressed his love and concern for them. You squeeze Neige tighter, grateful that he has a secure support network. He’s already been through a lot just based on what he’s told you so far.

Neige lets out another groan of despair, as you turn your full attention back towards him. Feeling a bit playful, you bring your face right next to his ear.

“I won’t let you go without a little something,” you tease.

Neige perks up, looking at you with wide and attentive eyes.

You chuckle at his reaction, murmuring that he’s cute, before leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek. He melts into your touch, gripping your waist tighter. Pulling away, you tap your own cheek with a quick wink. In the dim light, you’re barely able to make out the flush spreading across his face. His Adam's apple bobs, before he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle, and after a few seconds pull away.

“Enough to tide you over?” you question.

“...Barely,” he whispers, still stuck in the same spot, star-struck. 

“I trust your friends will make sure you get to your dorm safely?” you confirm, starting up the engine of the magic wheel. 

He nods.

“Good,” you smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Snow.”

“See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he replies, before shaking out of his stupor and calling out, “Make sure to get home safe!”

You laugh, as you leave the Royal Swords Academy… at least for today.

“Thanks! Will do!” 

You’ll be back tomorrow. 

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #neige x reader #neige leblanche #neige leblanche x reader #twst neige x reader #twst neige #disney twisted wonderland #royal sword academy #twst rsa #fluff #romance #twst fanfic #soft boi #this took so long to finish #i'm so sleep deprived #worked on this instead of sleeping #clem writes #clem writes fanfics #i was planning on making this into a mini series #but idk anymore cause reader ends up coming onto neige at the end #can't handle the love triangle angst low key #reader insert #it would've been neige x reader x vil #i love vil though #he has his problems but like... don't we all #anyway love u! #can't believe you made it this far lol

[sheisburiedhere]

The GraveRobber

Andrew graves x reader

Warning: cursing, sexual stuff

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

...

Jax...

You remember sitting on your sweet boyfriend's lap around midnight eating pizza and playing Mario kart the night before he left. Did you do something wrong? After all you both been through together... he just up and left? Why?...

He was you best friend since childhood, you both went to the same preschool, took baths together when you had play dates, had sleepovers every other weekend, all that jazz. Jax was really kind of cute , He had light brown curly hair , with equally light brown freckles that covered his fair skin and he always wore these long sleeve shirts with sweaters over them or this dark blue space themed hoodie that you would occasionally borrow when he was at work. It smelt like fresh linen and Irish spring body wash.

Jax preferred a "traditional" relationship ,he didn't like you wearing makeup and anything tight or short because he didn't like guys gawking over you. He didn't want you to work even though you wanted to work as mortician but he didn't find that feminine and well it creeped him out. So you decided to sacrifice your dream to well compromise in your relationship , you stay home in your shared apartment, doing the cleaning , cooking, and all those household chores. It isn't like you hated these things, you are actually pretty skilled at it.

But after Jax got a new job , you both moved to this apartment and well after a month , he left. It feels like it was almost planned... like ever since you both arrived here, he grew distant and well now looking back at everything... you should have know.

He started coming home late, like really late . He started complaining about you and how you looked and why don't you try dressing more modern and feminine and you remember turning and looking at him like HUH?! And that's when you start smelling very sweet perfume on his work suit. The same work suit that you wash and iron. But you must be crazy right, he would never cheat on you anything, he always acted like a saint.

That bitch

You're gonna find him.

And make him pay.

"OH MY GOSH," you yelled hitting against your neighbour wall with your fists, "TURN OFF THAT MUSIC," you screamed but that did nothing. You groan as you slam your head against the wall as a last attempt.

You decide to clean your small apartment, it became a habit now, I mean well there isn't anything really to do other watch tv and sleep. Can't really eat, have to ration food, maybe you shouldn't have really given those two emo siblings a whole box of food. But that was out of your good heart , you want to hate everyone but you just can't. It was a good thing you did.

*Your Love Increases*

You sigh, as you go to change your clothes after showering looking at the dreary patterns on your long skirts and and ugly blouses that Jax bought for you to wear. But you remember your clothes that you wore in high school which are stuffed in black trash bag in your closet after Jax threatened you to throw away if you continued wearing them because he claimed that you were cheating by doing so. You burst the bag open and empty it on the bed and you smile as you remember how good you used to feel wearing these. You grabbed an outfit and put it on.

You look at your outfit in the mirror , twirling and grinning and you decided to put on some makeup. Damn you look hot.

*Your Confidence Increases*

You turn back to the clothes that you now realized you hated and look at them. You bunch up the clothes , and slam open the balcony door and start dumping out the clothes outside onto the street. Your heart races wildly as you see the clothes being run over by speeding car. It was almost... pleasurable. Your chest rises and falls heavily as you breathe hard , smiling madly.

As you come down from your high, your eyes meet the older of the Graves siblings- Andrew with his eyes widened, his mouth slightly opened and halfway burnt cigarette almost falling out his mouth. His eyes traces over your body lingering at certain places and then at your lips and repeats this as if he was in a trance. You blush, its been a while since someone looked you like this, you don't even think Jax ever looked you like this well since... ever.

You snapped your fingers in front his eyes as he blinks out of his trance. "H-ey, um- wow you look uh- wow," he covers his face partially, blushing trying to avoid eye contact or his eyes contacting with any part of you than can make his knees give out. Before you speak , he continues , "Damn I mean you look beautiful since the first day I saw you moving in but damn you look so good, I mean you looked hot in what I saw you in last time but-" he breathes in hard as he continues admiring you. He starts back again " This enhances your hotness," he smiles nervously also playing with his hair as his eye gets lost in yours.

You smile mischievously, without words you use your index finger to call him over to your balcony while biting the bottom of your lip. Jax never made you feel so... horny but damn you are now and you want to enjoy this badly and come on, Andrew is hot. His eyes widen as he smirks and sets up his makeshift bridge to cross over coolly , he turns to flick the cigarette off the balcony and turns back to face you .

He pushes you against the balcony door , tracing his hands on your hips, he kisses your neck , light and soft then he pecks your lips. Its almost as if he is afraid to touch you like if you're glass, or so you thought. He squeezes your hips roughly , bucking up against you private area making you groan, running his tongue against your lips asking for entry. You open your mouth as you start feeling heated, his tongue slips in, dancing with yours, fighting for dominance and winning. He drinks in your moans as you grind against him. He pulls away from the kiss reluctantly, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he grabs two handfuls of your ass, "Tell me what you want me to do Y/n, say it and I'll do it , please say it Y/n."

Face flustered as you are just mind fucked from this amount of physical interaction, you wrapped you arms around his neck , breathing heavily as your chest touches his , " Andrew I wanna-,"

"ANDREW , where the actual hell are you I need you to come rub my feet," Ashley annoying whines loudly that it can be heard from where you both were. Andrew jumps back with a scared but annoyed look as if he has touched fire but his hands is still on your hips almost as if glued almost as if he didn't want to let go.

He breathes in apologetically as he steps back, giving you a quick deep kiss holding to your face saying " I'm sorry but I really like you , but if Ashley finds out I don't know what she'll do...", "ANNDREEWWWW" she yells . He groans loudly as you give him a kiss again and he leaves to go back into his apartment.

You look longingly at the apartment and scowls

"Stupid Cock block"

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves x reader #andrew graves #ashley graves

[vacayisland]

OHHH EM GEE!! I just saw your new post about you posting romantically about Poppy and Viva!! I wanted to ask if you could possible do a Poppy request and poppy and the reader are dating! Also could the reader be fem?

i was wondering if Poppy could just be clinging on the reader or just a scrapbooking date or just somewhere where they spend time together!

I love your writing so much and i get super dupes excited when you post new things I literally scream because your writing is literally so gorge and there’s not a lot of trolls x reader content! I just wanted to let you know that I just love your writing sm :)

@!; Scrapbooking my heart Poppy / Reader

"Summary"! Spoiled party plans lead to one of the best date-afternoons for the both of you. "Tags"! Fluff!! Also no gender is mentioned for the reader! <3 So read it as fem or masc or however you'll like.

@storydays @chamille-trash @valvalentine69

@!; It all started one bleak afternoon, when the clouds covered the sun from its gleeful parade; shining down upon Troll village no longer as a dreary atmosphere had taken upon the land. And many were being persuaded by the moody weather, becoming down casted in rainy chances and the shady afternoon that was meant to be bright. Not many would like to admit that they would let their mood to be so easily swayed, that their temper could be based on the peaking sun or the threatened clouds that stole away their sunshine. Not even Queen Poppy would like to admit this fact, despite the small frown that itched onto her lips the moment the sun clouded over their field. It eerily shrouded the plans for the party they were planning in a murky and unwelcoming way. Many commented about the shuddering tension; commenting how they thought it was going to be sunny that day, that there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky earlier. Many took a moment for themselves, glancing around at their fellow trolls, before they decided it would be a good stay-in-afternoon. “Hey, hey!” But Poppy wanted, no more like needed, to get these plans done! And she couldn’t do that without her friends, “Guys come on, it’s only a little cloudy. I’m sure it’ll clear right up!” Yet her words were soon followed by a frightening shock of thunder in the background, causing her to shrink a little into herself. But she tried to keep a bright smile on and tried to bounce back; if not for herself then for her friends, who probably needed some distraction after such well-timed (or maybe awfully timed) thunder. “Psh!” Poppy dramatically tried to wave off the fear, and the sinking feeling in her stomach. “I’m sure that was just a coincidence, you’ll see! That storm will pass in no time.”

The storm didn’t pass. In fact, Poppy wasn’t sure when she had seen so much rain! Now huddled in her pod, Poppy watched the rain with a nervous tick, thoughts flooded her mind as she questioned whether or not the party will need to be pushed back. It’s not like she hasn’t pushed back a party before- no wait, that’s exactly what this was! Poppy has never had to push back a party before and she’ll be damned if she would have to push back a party this time. And due to rain, of all things!

Rain, which has never stopped a Pop Trolls party before! Mostly because it never really rained in Pop village, due to their location and what not. They rarely got rain, or any sort of storm for that matter. Sure, they were surrounded by a forest, but that, in of itself, never posed that much of a threat: well, unless you didn’t count the bergen attack back before Poppy became a Queen, or all the dangerous creatures that lived inside the village, or Cloud Guy. But, never have those outside forces from the forest ever disrupted a Pop village party! And Poppy will make sure that this party was not to be pooped by some rain! “Yeah, you hear that rain! You won’t poop on this party.” Poppy shouted, pointing a finger to the weather outside; though it didn’t give much of a reaction and continued its own way. Poppy paused, staring at the raindrops before laughing nervously. “And I’m talking to rain… oh I’m talking to rain.” “If it makes you feel better… you were really convincing when you told off the rain.” A snickering voice sounded from behind Poppy, causing her to jump and yell. She didn’t remember inviting anyone over. Yet, when she whipped around, her guard was dropped instantly upon seeing you. While Poppy didn’t invite you over, you tended to just show up in her pod when she needed you the most. Likewise, she always tended to show up in your pop when you needed her. Branch always called it some sort of sixth sense you two had, and you could never tell if he said it sarcastically or literally due to his horrible choice in tone. But, either way, it was kind of true. You dropped the cupcakes you had brought onto Poppy’s table, walking over to her with a curious yet confused look, “So… why are we screaming at the rain?” “Ha! You know…?” Poppy’s lips etched with a nervous smile, fiddling with her fingers as she glanced outside the window. She didn’t mean for anyone to hear her yell at the rain. “It’s pooping your party, huh?” Poppy nodded at your correct guess, her grin only growing as she knew you would understand her outlandish outbreak. You stood there, staring out at the rain for a solid moment. Poppy glanced over at you, cocking up a curious eyebrow, as she tried to guess what you were thinking about… or maybe, what you were about to do. Whatever she was thinking, it wasn’t you joining in her silliness! “Hey rain, stop pooping my girlfriend’s party! She worked really hard on it and you are only ruining it for everyone!”

“Yeah! Go away and come again another day!” Poppy joined you with a bounce in her step, grinning from ear to ear with playfully frowned eyebrows. You both were already on the brink of laughter, but tried to keep yourselves composed. “Yeah! Haven’t you heard the rhyme? Rain, rain, go away, come again another day!” You stuck your hands outside Poppy’s window and tried to shoo the rain away. Though your hand waving only spread the rain that drenched them to flicks elsewhere. And despite your shared attempts, the rain didn’t seem to be budging or going away to come again another day. You and Poppy watched the rain for a moment, seeming convinced that your attempts would drive away the rain. Or, maybe you both knew you were being silly! Well, Poppy knew that more than you as she burst out into laughter after you muttered, almost too sincere, “Huh… I actually thought that would work.”

@!; After your failed attempts at trying to shoo away the rain didn’t work, and Poppy had calmed down from her hysterical laughter, you both found yourselves sitting on the floor of her pod. You had brought over the cupcakes from her table, having them safely between your legs, while Poppy scrounged around for her scrapbooking materials. She had decided if she couldn’t physically plan the party outside, due to the rain, she would just plan it inside with a scrap book! And talk to you all about her plans as you were here and ready to listen. “So! Tomorrow’s party is going to be so huge. Like, almost bergen-catching level huge.” Poppy snickered as she grabbed her basket of materials and books and scraps, walking over to where you sat on the floor. She joined you, plopping down right beside you, and began to unpack her basket at once with a feverous delight. And while you were half-way through a cupcake, you still answered your girlfriend, “Oh, bergen-catching level huge, huh?” “Yes!” Poppy exclaimed instantly, not wasting a beat. “It’s to celebrate our second week of knowing there’s more Trolls out there than just us! So I was thinking that we could try and have Trolls from different villages come and join us and allow them to play their music so everyone can be in harmony again like they were two weeks ago. It’ll unite everyone just like how everything had been and it’ll be amazing and spectacular and- and even Branch will come!” You couldn’t help but smile as Poppy tried to contain her excitement, yet she was basically bouncing off the walls; Figuratively, not literally. As she rushed out her thoughts to you, laying out her plans in great detail, she scrapbook her whole plan. It was oddly fascinating and calming to watch Poppy scrapbook, especially when you could eat multiple cupcakes while doing so. She just always put her whole heart into the activity, she always put her whole heart into everything, and it made it all so enjoyable. Even if her plans were a little unrealistic, you decided to let her enjoy her little fantasy plans for now; Maybe you’ll break it to her later, get her to see that it would be a little more difficult than she’s thinking, but if she truly believed in it she should fight for it. Or, maybe, Branch will break it to her first and you might have to throw hands with the gray, bunker-dewling hobbit. Even if he’s right. Hours flew by light minutes. You were on your fifth cupcake, this one being double chocolate. Poppy was cutting out the little details on her scrapbook design. You both sat there in a lovely silence that was being filled with music from Poppy’s record player, old vinyls you had found and decided to pop onto play with Poppy’s agreement. And you were sure you couldn’t hear the rain sputtering against the windows anymore, yet you didn’t want to tell Poppy just yet. Knowing her, she would rush off, dragging you with her, to go plan the party outside her scrapbook. Yet, you wanted to be a little selfish and keep her with you for a little longer. A little longer with Poppy leaning against you. A little longer of the record player singing out the vinyl tunes. A little while longer of peace. A little while longer of here and now.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#poppy x reader #queen poppy x reader #poppy trolls #trolls x reader #dreamworks trolls #queen poppy #trolls #trolls fandom #trolls 3 #trolls band together #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls poppy #trolls 2 #trolls world tour #trolls 1 #trolls movie #brozone x reader

[crow-stars]

❝WET CLOTHES, WET HAIR, WARM SMILES❞

❦summary; just because it's raining outside doesn't mean you can't have fun. it only makes it better when there's a friend joining in too. ♪the characters in this story; gn!reader, epel felmier ✎word count; 847 ❀what do the ghosts say?; platonic, playing in the rain, epel gets in trouble, just having a grand old time ☛the author's notes; tomorrow is a rest day! so nothing will be posted on that day. actually have a rest day every 7 (or 8 i think it is??) days, so the next ones will be on the 16th & 24th! ☪look at the catalogue?

It was raining again today. It was the third day in a row.  Epel sighed as he stared out the window, lips formed in an almost pout. His cheek pressed against the cool glass, perhaps the only good thing out of this incessant downpour. Epel loved the rain, always loved jumping around in puddles and playing in the mud since he was a kid, but he couldn’t do that now, not under the watchful gaze of Vil. 

Epel sighs again. He feels like he’ll begin to lose air from how much he’s sighing. 

“Monsieur Crabapple, why are you so sad?” Rook came up next to Epel suddenly, that all knowing smile on his lips that unnerved pretty much everyone. “Could it be the rain that has brought upon such a dreary look upon your delicate features?” 

Epel groaned and rolled his eyes, pushing away from the window and towards one of the couches in the lounge. If there was one thing that Epel was glad for, it was how soft the couches in Pomefiore were. He could hear Rook move over to Epel’s side, the hunter’s hands lightly poking at the freshman’s side. 

“Will ya stop that?! I ain’t in the mood for this...” Epel groaned out, slapping Rook’s hand away before plopping his face back into the cushions. Having Rook bother him on top of the despair of not being able to go out into the rain and have fun only made Epel’s mood sour. Thankfully, Rook’s footsteps leave Epel alone in the lounge and he’s left to his self wallowing.

After a few minutes of lamenting to himself, he heard his phone ring in his pocket. Epel lifted his chin as he turned on the device, seeing that he received a message. From you specifically. 

Do you wanna go play in the rain? 

A second message came in after that. 

I can sneak you out ;D

Epel sat up, eyebrows raising in interest. He took a look at the clock. Vil wouldn’t be coming back to the dorm for a while. A grin came over his lips and he practically jumped to get his raincoat, putting it on over his dorm uniform and rushing outside the dorm. Epel could already feel the rain droplets on his head the moment he steps out, the air pleasantly cool on his skin. 

He meets you in the hall of mirrors, also wearing a raincoat of your own. You were smiling almost as widely as Epel was, taking his hand and racing outside together. The first drops of water against Epel’s face felt like heaven, cold and fresh and better than staying inside his dorm. The two of you were running around in the rain soaked school grounds, jumping in whatever puddles the two of you happened across. 

Epel’s suddenly hand suddenly left your as he slipped on a puddle, yelping in surprise as the impact of his fall causes a large splash around the two of you. The feeling of water permeates through Epel’s coat, the droplets of water soaking his dorm uniform uncomfortably. Some of it even wets his hair, making the pale purple locks stick to Epel’s skin in a way he didn’t wish. Before he could even begin cursing out his frustrations, you laughed, a big, loud boisterous laugh that got Epel giggling as well. 

Epel manages to stand with your aid, letting the hood of his coat fall off his head. It made the rain begin to drench Epel’s hair, yet he didn’t mind, how could he when you both were enjoying the feeling of the rain against your skins. 

The cold shivers that Epel felt did nothing to put a damper on his fun, chest filled with glee that never diminished as the two of you frolicked and played in the rain as if you were children again. 

Your play continued all the way up until Rook and Vil interrupted it, Rook holding an umbrella over Vil’s head while he wore a raincoat. By that time, Epel looked absolutely messy, mud smeared on his cheeks, wet hair sticking to his forehead, dorm uniform muddied and dripping with rainwater. 

Vil was like an angry mother as he approached Epel, delicate fingers taking Epel’s ear and pinching it. Epel yelped and rubbed at his ear to soothe it. “Look at you,  you’re so messy. And your uniform─” Vil heaves a disappointed sigh and pinches his nose with his free hand, shifting his hand to grab Epel by the back of his uniform. “Come on. I’m taking you back to the dorm. Rolling around in the mud...”  

Epel protested as Vil dragged him back to the dorm, only managing to wave goodbye to you as he was swiftly taken away. Rook also waved goodbye to you, leaving with a pleasant smile. 

Epel was ‘grounded’ by Vil, forbidding him from going outside and playing in the rain ever again. It left Epel sulking about it, but it was only to be expected with how badly he messed up his uniform. 

But hey, at least he had fun.

#✎haunted books✎ #briarvalleyarchives #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland writing #twst writing #my writing #epel felmier #twst epel #twst epel felmier #epel felmier twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #epel felmier x reader #epel x reader

[wol-fica]

-ℝ𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖-

summary - Jenna heads home in a rainstorm to be greeted with food and you ofc :3

warnings - fluff :)

an - old draft, decided to post it

—————

Rain Sucked

Really, It soaked into Jenna’s clothes, making the thick material cling to her skin. Which did nothing to stop the chill from leaking into her bones. Her hair, ever the mess, was plastered against her forehead, getting in her brown eyes, letting rainwater drip down her face, and all together making life a lot more difficult than it needed to be. She pushed her bangs out of the way for the umpteenth time and sighed. 

At least filming was over with, finally. 

It was a boring day, with camera work being ever so existent. Jenna knew she should be grateful for the slow day; filming meant the movie would be done and out faster, but being out in weather like this was absolutely dreadful. 

She thought briefly about stopping back at her trailer to change, she really did. The thought of warm, dry clothes was so utterly enticing, but then Jenna realized she’d have to trudge back through the torrential downpour, just to get home, thus retroactively negating getting dry in the first place. So here she was, still decked out in her filming outfit, soaked through to the bone and shivering, dragging her feet back to her apartment.

She sighed, just another block to go. 

There weren’t many people out. Only a handful dared to brave the storm, huddled under their umbrellas and walking at a brisk pace, barely sparing Jenna a passing glance. Which was probably a good thing. She wasn’t sure if anyone really wanted to see the current top rising actress looking akin to a drowned rat. 

She dashed across the street, boots sloshing through yet another puddle. Crap. 

Jenna shivered, wincing as she felt more chilled rainwater slosh into already waterlogged her shoes. There was no escaping the many puddles that littered the streets and alleyways, and Jenna had honestly given up hours ago. That didn’t mean she liked getting water in her boots, however. It was cold, and wet, and she was starting to lose sensation in her toes. 

She just bent her head and powered onward, thoughts of a warm shower, dry clothes, and a much needed nap filling her mind. Just a little farther, and she could get out of these wet clothes.

And get warm.

And get out of this awful rain. 

When her complex finally appears around the corner Jenna felt like she could cry with relief. She didn’t, of course; crying would take too much energy. Energy she did not have, thanks to the dreary and dreadful day. She fumbled for her wallet, hidden in one of the many pouches on her coat, and pulled out her keycard.

Or, tried to.

Her cumbersome gloves paired with her numb fingers made things rather difficult. Which left Jenna standing outside her apartment building, fighting with her wallet for a good five minutes before she finally managed to free her keycard and swipe herself inside.

Stupid security measures, but she understands it; safety was vital, especially given how many celebrities lived in this complex. But dammit, she just wanted a warm shower. Was that really too much to ask?

Apparently it was- Jenna got stopped by the doorman, who insisted upon asking her about her day, which while quite polite, left her shivering miserably and dripping all over the white tile floors. 

Then, she missed the elevator and had to wait for it to travel six floors up- and yes, she counted- before coming back down. And of course, just as she was getting on, another five people dashed up, hollering for her to hold the elevator. Jenna did, of course; she was raised to be polite, after all. But she was gritting her teeth the whole time, shivering and trying to not look as pathetic as she felt. 

Of course, because life apparently hated her at this moment, each person needed a different floor. Because of course they did. So she had to wait as the elevator stopped five different times, on five different floors, before she could get to hers. Why she ever agreed to stay with her girlfriend in a ten story building downtown, Jenna didn’t know. She was certainly regretting such decisions, now. 

The elevator finally pinged for her floor, and Jenna stumbled out, heaving a sigh. 

Ugh, only a few more steps.

She was dragging her feet by the time she reached the appropriate apartment door. Unable to even lift her boots, the staccato squelches came accompanied by the squeaks of wet sneakers on linoleum. She fumbled with her keys, her numb fingers made things difficult, and curses crowded her tongue.

Fuck it.

She resorted to yanking her gloves off with her teeth and letting them flop onto the doormat. It helped; Jenna was able to get the right key into the doorknob at last. 

One twist and the door sprung open. She fumbled her way inside, kicking at her gloves to get them across the doorway. She’d pick them up, but she was so tired. She was afraid that if she bent over now, she’d fall over and wouldn’t be able to get back up. 

The floor would be too comfortable, and her limbs too leaden. Once Inside, Jenna was met with warmth and the savory smells of dinner. She somehow managed to shoulder the door closed behind her, and began the ever difficult process of untying and kicking off her boots. The strings were soggy and waterlogged, making her grimace.

Her fingers, now tingly, still felt cumbersome as she tugged at the knotted string. Jenna leaned heavily against the wall for balance as she muscled her shoes off, a sigh breezing past her lips as she freed her feet from their cumbersome and damp confines.

She picked up the boots and placed them on the mat with the rest of the neatly organized shoes. The socks came off next; Jenna ripped them off, grimacing at the way they dripped. 

Distantly, Jenna registered the sounds of rustling and movement from within the apartment, but her mind was singularly focused. She trudged past the living space and kitchen, staggering her way to the bedroom. There was a pause, and the clank of dishes echoed through the space. 

“Jenna?” A voice called. 

She managed a hand wave as she crossed the threshold, hands already fumbling to remove her rain drenched outfit.

A shiver wracked her body as she peeled away the soggy fabric. She stripped down to her underwear and bra, dumping the wet costume in the hamper with a sigh. Jenna ran a hand through her damp hair. Should she shower now, or…? 

Warm hands caressed her shoulders, skidding down to her waist. Jenna hummed and leaned into your touch, the warmth and care chased the chill away, and she melted as you pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. 

“Hey,” You murmured. 

She smiled. 

“Hey.” 

“How was filming?” You asked, scratching Jenna’s scalp with her nails.

She shrugged. “Boring, mostly. The weather was awful, though.”

You hummed, the vibrations tickling her skin from where you pressed against her .

“I hate walking in the rain,” You murmured. “I always end up drenched.”

That was the understatement of the century, and Jenna couldn’t help the snort. She felt Your smile curve into the back of her neck, and she sighed.

“Go take a hot shower,” You said. “I’ll finish dinner, and then we can cuddle. Okay?” 

Jenna twisted in your grasp so that she was facing you, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay,” She said, voice soft.

It was moments like these, quiet, behind closed doors, that she liked the most. After it was all said and done, you both took care of each other. 

Rain sucked, but having a warm place to come to made it all better.

————-

#jenna #ortega #jenna ortega x r #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega fluff #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you

[ms--lobotomy]

I heard some of you were looking for Kyle. Who am I if not a provider?

Summary: Abbadon wants a companion for the night.

Word Count: 1461

Content Warnings: General 40kness, smut, once my Catholic guilt arc is over it’s over for all of you

Image Credit: @squishyowl

You looked out of the window of your cell. It was the one comfort you had here, and the view was almost beautiful. Silent columns of lightning stretched out between magenta clouds, churning away faster than they ever could on any planet. Iron bars marred the view somewhat, but you had to take what you could get in this strange land. The rest of your cell was pitifully dreary, with a curtain closing off what resembled a restroom and a slab of… something that resembled a bed. You chose not to look at those parts. At least, not now.

You heard footsteps coming down the hall. They were heavy and loud, announcing the presence of maybe two or three members of the Black Legion. You barely turned your head from the window before they fiddled with the keys to your cell, almost ripping the bars off of each other. You recognized one’s speech in Low Gothic, but it took you a few moments to really process it.

“The Despoiler wants a word with you.”

You tensed up. They surely couldn’t mean… No matter. You put one foot in front of the other and joined the three hulking men outside your cell. One of them started to walk off, and another prodded you with his chainsword.

“Move.”

You had no choice but to follow these strange men through the halls of the base. You lost track of where you were early on, going into new and uncharted areas of the base. Granted, you’d only ever seen the prison, so this was not a failing of your navigational skills. You hadn’t time to marvel at the interior despite being confined to your cell for what felt like weeks, you and your captors were walking too fast. You had to slightly jog to keep up with them.

Soon enough, you were upon a large door. You ran your fingers along the intricate woodwork, not having felt varnished wood in ages. Two of those strange men looked down at you as you lowered your hand. Another one turned on his vox machine.

“She’s here,” he said, stepping back from the door. The others did so as well, prompting you to do the same.

After a few moments, the door clicked open. You beheld a man taller than the three around you, the first without a helmet that you’d seen in a long while. He had a long top knot at the top of his head, and his eyes bored into you, unreadable. You immediately looked away, trying not to shake in your poorly put together shoes.

“Leave,” he said as the three behind you turned tail and left, muttering to one another.

He watched them as they left before turning his gaze back to you. “You can come in, you know.”

You looked up at him and slowly walked into the room. It must be his private chambers; it was filled with ornate things that you couldn’t have even dreamed of while in your cell. Your eyes darted from the paintings on the wall to the table and chairs built for someone his size. He walked towards the bed, sitting on it as it slightly gave way underneath him. “Come,” he said, scooting over slightly.

“Why do you bring me here?” you asked, rubbing your upper arm with your hand.

He smirked. “I just wanted a bit of company tonight.” He called your name. It was a bit strange on his lips, but it was the first time someone had referred to you by name instead of number.

Was it night? It was impossibly hard to tell in this space between space. You found yourself walking towards the bed and sitting on it next to him as he took his gauntlets off, then his pauldrons, then the rest of the armor adorning his arms. You couldn’t help but notice rippling muscles as your heart beat quicker in your chest.

“Not like I have a choice in the matter,” you said after a moment.

He chuckled. “If you do not wish to be here, I could grab another.”

“No-“ you interjected before you could stop yourself.

He continued taking off his armor, pulling his breastplate over his head before casting it aside. “Good,” he said. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and you tensed up yet again.

“I will not hurt you, unless that is something you desire.”

You looked up at him. He was looking down at you with… reverence, almost. You felt your face go warm as he took your chin in his hand. His grip was firm, but you could tell that he was holding back.

He let go and leaned down to take off his lower armor, and you watched intently as pieces fell to the floor, softly clanking against other pieces. He looked down at you and smirked once he was finished. It was then when he leaned in for a kiss, pressing against soft skin. You were taken aback for a minute before you reciprocated. He grabbed your hips and turned the rest of you to face him, your legs resting against his waist.

He brushed the sides of your shirt up, fabric gathering underneath his hands. You let out a soft moan before freezing, and he pulled away.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

You slowly nodded. He went in for a kiss again, this time biting your bottom lip. You squeaked, grasping for his body glove. You felt him chuckle against you, hands moving underneath your shirt up your back. He pulled away again, his hands moving to your thigh.

“Take it off,” he barked.

Without hesitation, you pulled your shirt over your head. He looked down at you for a moment, running a hand over your body.

“Good girl,” he said, pressing you down onto the bed before planting his teeth on your collarbone. It wasn’t enough to draw blood, but it was going to leave a mark. You let out another high-pitched squeak, and he made another mark even lower. When he had his fill, he went down to your breast and took your nipple in his teeth.

“Abbadon…” you moaned as he bit you there. That was also going to leave a mark.

“What is it?” he asked before moving to your other side to do the same thing. You yelped, your fingers pressing into his back as he trailed lower. He was kneeling before you when he made his way between your legs, pulling your shoes and pants off and parting your legs with ease. He began to feast, eliciting soft cries from you. He reached places you thought someone could never reach, and before long, you came hard on him.

He pulled away, fiddling with the zipper on his body glove before taking it all off. You looked at him in awe before he pinned you down again, your fingers interlocking with his. He planted a quick kiss to your lips before he rubbed himself against you and you looked up at him, pleading.

“You will have to beg for it,” he said, grazing himself against you.

“Please…” you murmured. “Please put yourself in me. I want you.”

“More than anything you’ve ever wanted?”

“More than anything I’ve ever wanted.”

He put himself in, and you cried out. “You are taking me so well,” he said as he slid in further. You couldn’t form any cohesive sentences in response, so you let yourself cry out. He slid himself in to the hilt and stayed there for a minute, watching your face scrunch up and listening to your little yelps before he pulled himself out to do it all again. He started to go faster, and you felt your eyes rolling back. Here you were, stark naked, stretched out over him.

You came a second time, much more loudly and violently than the first. Abbadon smirked above you, victorious. His hands moved to your wrists as he kept going, and soon you realized how much stamina was granted to an Astartes. He kept you up long into the night before he started to speed up one last time. You were loud, and he stuck a few fingers in your mouth. He grunted something in his Cthonian tongue before he shot his load into you, once, twice, then a third time.

Liquid leaked out of you as he pulled himself out of you for the last time and shifted you fully onto the bed. He held you close to him. You relaxed into his hold as he ran a hand through your hair.

“You will not have to spend another day rotting in that cell,” he said.

You closed your eyes and sleep soon took hold of you. You slept better than you had in weeks.

@kit-williams

#ezekyle abbadon x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #space marine x reader #reader insert #ezekyle abbadon #warhammer lobotomy #hes got a yee yee ass haircut but also nice abs so #I know the khan has the same but he wears it better #also ive noticed my fics are getting progressively longer #im gonna write a novel guys. Brb #mating press march

[andypantsx3]

Andie. 🥺 Florist Shouto giving you a big bouquet of peonies. 🥺 Fat, full ones that are ruffled like petticoats. 🥺 Wrapped in brown paper with a trailing ribbon. 🥺 And they’ve been sitting there in the glass fridge, waiting for you to come past the shop on your way home from work. 🥺🥺

omg stop my ovaries are about to explode

rip those flowers as they get squished between us when i lay it on him

The shop bell jingles gently as you shoulder open the door, ducking out of the rain and into the tiny florist's shop.

Immediately the thick scent of greenery washes over you, delicate florals and the tangy smell of earth. The bright bouquets stand out even more than usual against the dreary grey of the sky outside, the shelves straining under the weight of tightly-packed buckets bursting with color.

You quickly smooth down your hair, trying not to look like a wet rat before the shop's owner catches sight of you, frantically dredging your brain for some event that might occasion flowers this time. Over the past few months, you've developed a bad habit of wandering into this particular shop on your way home from work--inventing a million and one things you need flowers for. Your friends are quickly growing sick of bouquets for everything--birthdays, anniversaries, congrats on quitting your job, dinner party gifts, the lot.

But you can't help it.

Because even more beautiful than the arrangements that grace these shelves, even more lovely than the atmosphere of the shop itself, is the shop owner, the man who keeps drawing you back, again and again.

Todoroki Shouto.

As if on queue, the man in question emerges from the back room, lugging a large earthenware pot filled with perennials--probably the next display piece to be positioned just outside the front door. Under his blue button up, you can see a bicep cording with the effort, and his handsome face is scrunched in concentration, long eyelashes dusting the top of ridiculously high cheekbones.

He's so horribly beautiful, tall and packed with lithe stretches of muscle, and he has a face like an elven prince from a fantasy novel. The yelp reviews of this shop are filled with just as many covert shots of him as they are of the flower arrangements, jammed with fawning comments like "the most beautiful bloom of all," and "this dude is even more gorgeous than his arrangements and that is saying a lot."

You can't say you disagree.

Your heartbeat kicks up a bajillion notches, like it always does at the sight of him, and you suppress the urge to flatten your hair again. Todoroki looks up, then, pinning you with his mismatched gaze--his right eye an icy, wintery grey like the sky outside, his left an unearthly blue, like the center of a flame where it burns the hottest.

"Hi, Todoroki," you say quickly, before your brain loses capacity for human speech, the way it usually does in his presence.

With a flex of his arm that you will absolutely be reliving in the dark of your own bedroom later, he heaves the pot onto the counter, quickly dusting his hands off on the white apron he's tied around his waist. You try very hard not to notice that the way it's tied emphasizes the ratio of his broad shoulders to his trim waist, and fail spectacularly.

"Y/N," he intones in his deep voice, low and smooth. "You're back."

You wince.

You are most certainly back, unable to avoid the siren call of the fifteen minutes you spend together on almost a weekly basis, your eyes desperate to drink your fill of him.

You'll never take this anywhere, would never dream of being inappropriate or making your move on him. He's so obviously uninterested, with a face and a body and a voice like that. But you can't help but want to spend these few, small minutes with him anyway. He's so beautiful--and beyond that, there is something about the way he speaks, the way he moves, the careful way he does everything that soothes some strange itch in you--that blurs the daily stresses of your life into the background.

You always leave feeling calm, somehow. Content. Like you can handle the rest of the week if you just hold the memory of him like a protective charm against the rest of the world.

He's fucking magic.

"Uh, yeah," you say stupidly. "Here I am!"

Those eyes flicker over you evaluatively, and a heart-rending hint of a smile pulls at his full mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You realize you've failed to come up with an excuse, too focused on the movement of his biceps as he carried that pot.

"Uh, just, uh, something for me this time," you say. "It's supposed to be rainy all weekend and I'm thinking some flowers would keep my apartment bright and friendly." You give yourself a little mental pat on the back for pulling that idea out of your own butt.

Todoroki makes a low humming noise that goes right down your spine. "Did you have a long week?" he asks.

"Ugh, the worst," you say before you remember that no man likes a complainer. But Todoroki doesn't look like he minds, watching you curiously like he wants an explanation.

You wave a hand. "Just, office politics stuff. I had a big report due and spent like an hour trying to stop marketing from trying to spin the numbers their way. It got, uh, heated." You scrub a hand over your cheeks. "But anyway it's the weekend now and that's over. I'm going to curl up with a good book and a glass of wine and pretend for the next forty-eight hours like I've never even heard of marketing."

Another curve of a smile pulls at Todoroki's mouth.

"Any plans for you this weekend?" you ask, eager to hear about him.

He nods, his red and white bangs dipping in front of his eyes for a moment. "I'm going to visit my mother," he says. "It's her birthday soon, her first one since leaving the hospital."

Over the course of the last few months, you'd worked the story out of Todoroki, about how she'd been hospitalized when he was young, of the growing and changing and forgiving his family has had to do since. He always talks about it in such a conscientious way, and it's a major part of the reason you like him so much. If only you too, could be so patient and thoughtful and good.

"Oh my god," you say. "Please tell her happy birthday from me! Can I--I want to get her a little bouquet from me, then, if you--uh--if you don't mind. Um. Arranging it?"

Todoroki's eyes fix on you unblinkingly, and for a minute you think you might have overstepped, until his eyes crease and his mouth softens in a way that you know means he's pleased--the same way he looks when he finishes an arrangement and you can't help but pile him in heaping praise.

"I'd like that," he says.

You grin.

Used to the routine, you dump your bag off by the register and follow him to the buckets of unarranged flowers he keeps along the storefront, watching his broad back as he leads you, trying not to stare at the slim fit of his pants as he does.

"What are the feelings you want to convey?" Todoroki asks, like he always does when you start.

"I want something happy. Joy, um, good wishes. I want these flowers to symbolize my most excellent vibes," you say, cringing when it comes out as stupid as it does.

Todoroki huffs a tiny little laugh, though, and a hot little thrill of pleasure sweeps from your head to your toes.

"Your most excellent vibes," he repeats in his low tone, sounding dangerously close to amused.

He reaches out, and under his hands, a small, beautiful bouquet comes together--creamy yellow lilies and tiny coral roses and a spray of white buds and bright leafy sprigs of greenery. Lilies symbolize happiness he tells you, orange roses energy and joy, and the white buds are for rebirth, new beginnings.

It's lovely, almost as lovely as he is.

You're pleased, and happily hand over your card to him, taking a blank note card from the register till and penning out a short note of best wishes to Rei, who you have heard so much about.

You chat a little bit more, and insist on Todoroki letting you pick out the wrapping for when he brings the flowers to her, picking out the brown paper you've always liked and a little orange ribbon to match the vibrant roses.

"You have to make it extra fancy when you wrap it," you order him, pointing your pen at him like a weapon. "No taking shortcuts because she's your mom and she'll love anything you put together regardless. I want pictures when I'm back here next week."

His eyebrows raise, and a real smile pulls at his mouth, then, a glowing half-moon grin, so utterly devastating in its beauty. Your heart almost falls out of your butt and you have to grab the counter just to keep your knees from getting too wobbly.

"The vibes will be excellent," he teases, the words sounding so strange and foreign in the crispness of his almost princely tones.

You watch him place them in water and attach your card, carrying them over to the fridge which is already overstuffed with a million different bouquets, each more beautiful than the last.

You shoulder on your bag again, eyes drinking in one last fill of Todoroki Shouto and his shop to keep you sated over the coming week, when Todoroki glances back over one broad shoulder.

"Wait," he says. Your feet freeze on the tile obediently.

You watch curiously as he tucks his mother's bouquet into the fridge, and then even more curiously as he pulls an absolutely gorgeous bouquet of flushed pink peonies from the top shelf. Some are light pink, little shy blushes of color, and others are deep rose, full and pouty and absolutely perfect. Little green leaves peek through in colorful bursts, breaking up the color palette just so.

It's so classical and beautiful, and your eyebrows climb into your hairline when Todoroki pulls them from their vase, wrapping them in that brown paper you like and tying them off in a trailing emerald ribbon with a deft twist of his deliciously long fingers.

"Do you need me to make a delivery?" you wonder aloud. "Because I accept cash, credit, or praise and eternal gratitude."

But Todoroki just smiles again, stepping up to you, so close that your back bumps the counter--close enough that you feel the whisper of his apron across your coat. This near, his face is even more lovely, and you can see the flushed pink skin of his scar so clearly, smell the earthy fingerprint of flowers on him.

He presses the peonies into your hands, leaning down to look into your face.

"They're for you," he says, his voice suddenly lower than you've ever heard it. "The pink ones have a special meaning."

He can't mean anything by it, but your heart is working overtime, every inch of your skin breaking out into a furious flush with his proximity and the low, conspiratorial register of his voice.

"I--they do?" you manage to squeak out.

Todoroki nods, a slow incline of his head, and moves forward just a little bit more, pressing into you where you stand immobilized against the register.

Just then, the bell overhead jangles, and Todoroki closes his eyes, a still cast overcoming his features, almost like he's disappointed. He steps away, but not before trailing one long, pretty finger over the petals of one peony.

"I trust you'll figure it out," he says, and moves to help the customer, an elderly woman with a helmet of shiny silver hair.

When you let yourself out back into the rain, it's shockingly cold against your overheated skin, but you almost can't feel it, a strange haze settling over you. The train ride home is a blur, a churning, choppy sea of replayed memories from your encounter with Todoroki.

It's only when you let yourself into your apartment that you realize there's a tiny notecard buried among the flowers, and you watch as it flutters to your floor. Todoroki's untidy scrawl is all over as you pick it up with curious fingers, and you accidentally drop the peonies flat on the floor when you read it.

Y/N--

Have dinner with me

-- S

And it's followed by a phone number, carefully written so that all of the numbers stand out clearly, as clear as Todoroki's intentions suddenly are to you.

It's even more clear when you remember to google the meaning of the peonies and get caught on the words love at first sight, your face going hotter than the surface of the sun.

Your phone is in your fingers before you register you've even moved, and your message is shot off with shy but certain finality.

I'd love to.

#i didn't edit this #my b #but god bless u mermie for putting this into my brain

[kteezy997]

"Hi,K. I'll leave an idea here ,if you like it, it's yours. The reader is at home, leaning out the window, on a rainy morning. Dawn has just broken and she sees a boy alone, standing under the rain in the neighbor's garden. He seems so down.She invites him in and offers him coffee. He is so cute and seems so sad, that she sweetly consoles him and well .... His green eyes and pale skin make her fall in love,so,it turns into a sweet smut. I leave to your creativity the end and the reason for his sadness. Thank you for still being here. And congratulations on 'Be my daddy', I love that story."

The Boy in the Rain

A/n: thank you my sweet friend @gatoenlaciudad for the idea and kind words! Your support means more than you know!❤️❤️

Warnings: smut, light spanking, strangers hooking up

It was early still, the rain from last night hadn't let up much. It was a gloomy, dreary morning, but you felt cozy at the idea of spending the day inside.

You made some fresh coffee and decided to watch the rainfall for a bit. You leaned on the window, resting your head on it. As you watched the droplets coming down, you sipped on your coffee, letting it warm you from the inside out. You could see the sun begin to rise and the precipitation started to lighten, finally.

You could over look your neighbor's garden from the window and as you looked ahead further, you could make out a tall, slim figure standing there. It was a man, about your age. His hair was a mass of wet curls and his clothes were drenched. You couldn't help but notice how sad he seemed to be.

Surely, you thought, he could use a safe space to warm up. You slipped on some shoes and went downstairs. You threw on your raincoat and headed outside. The rain wasn't coming down very hard, but it was still quite cold as you approached your neighbor's fence.

You looked over at the young man standing alone in the garden and called out to him, "Hello! Are you alright, sir?"

He looked over at you, his brows furrowed in the rain as he squinted. You got a glimpse of the green in his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you for checking, anyway."

"Can I ask why you're out here all by yourself? Maybe you'd like to come inside? I've got fresh coffee, you seem like you could stand to warm up."

"Sure, I'd appreciate that."

You lead the way into your home, and removed your coat. Your new friend did the same, but alas, his rain jacket did little to keep the rain from saturating his clothes underneath.

"Here, let me grab you a towel." you said, rushing to the bathroom and back with a plush towel for him to wrap up in.

"Thank you, very much." he said, putting the towel around his shoulders.

"I didn't get your name out there." you said, trying to not be too awkward.

"Oh, yes, I'm Timothée. And you are?" He ran the towel through his wet curls.

"Y/n." you said, suddenly realizing how handsome he was. You felt yourself blushing but tried to hide it by saying, "Come on, let's get you some coffee."

Once in the kitchen together, you poured him a cup and handed the warm beverage over to him.

"Thank you, y/n. You're so sweet, you didn't have to do this." He brought the mug up to his lips for a sip.

"Well, not to judge or anything, but you looked awfully pitiful out there in the rain, Timothée." you giggled.

He chuckled along with you, saying, "Yeah, I really don't normally hang out in random gardens in inclement weather. It's my grandmother's place across the way."

"Oh, Mrs. Chalamet? She's so sweet, I've always enjoyed having her as neighbor."

"That's nice to hear." he smiled, but if faded sadly. "But, she actually passed away yesterday."

"Oh no, Timothee, I'm so sorry."

"Thank you. We're starting to clean out her things today and i just..." he shook his head, "got overwhelmed with everything, so I just went out the garden for a minute."

"In the pouring rain?" you asked.

"Yeah." he chuckled, "I just had to step away, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that. Is there anything else I can do for you? I don't have anywhere to be today."

Timothee looked into your eyes, not moving his gaze even slightly. "Could I ask you to distract me, Y/n?" He brought his hand up, and his fingers met your chin ever so delicately. "Even if it's just for a little while?"

His hand moved and your jaw rested in his palm as his thumb caressed your cheek and his green eyes melted you. You trembled a bit, you couldn’t help it. He was so downhearted, and so damn good-looking and sweet.

"Of course. Anything you need, Timothee." You bit your lip.

Timothée cocked his head slightly to the side and leaned in. His eyes closed, and you closed yours as well. His lips were soft and cool to the touch from being out in the weather.

Damn, it felt so good to be kissed, especially by beautiful Timothée. You moaned and he slid his tongue into your mouth in response.

He groaned against your lips, “Your bedroom?”

“Mm, it’s this way.” you replied, taking him by the hand and making your way upstairs. “Let’s get you out if these clothes.” you said, pulling his wet shirt off and then unbuttoning his trousers.

You got his pants off and then his boxers, and his cock was semi-hard already. You just wanted to make him feel good, so you moistened your lips with your tongue. You took his cock in your hands, and put your wet lips on the tip of him. You moaned as you sucked.

“Fuck yeah.” Timothée muttered, grabbing a handful of your hair. “Your mouth feels so fucking good.”

You used your tongue to glide along the underside of his dick as you bobbed to and fro. Timothée started to rut his hips forward softly. His breathing pattern became rugged, and he started to whimper.

After awhile, his cock was fully erect and leaking a bit with precum. “God damn, take your clothes off.” He ordered you with a huff.

You giggled, obliging by throwing your top off. As you slid your leggings down, he came over to you, putting his hands on your waist and turning you around. He also pushed you forward so you were bent over the bed and he pushed your leggings the rest of the way down for you and he smacked your naked ass cheek.

You shrieked, “Timothée!” He tossed your leggings elsewhere and you heard the fabric hit the floor. He raked your thong over your butt and spread your folds and you felt his warm, wet tongue on you.

Timothée used the tip of his tongue to tease your clit. “Fuck!” you moaned shamelessly over and over again as he spent several minutes warming you up by licking and lapping over your wetness.

You felt his mouth leave you, and you were shaking lightly. You whimpered in anticipation. Timothée grabbed you by the hips and slid his thick cock into you. The stretching he caused was painful at first but then it was bliss after a few strokes.

“You feel me baby? How’s it feel for you?” he asked you, panting a little.

“So fucking good!” you said, believing that this was what heaven must be like: getting fucked by Timothée Chalamet.

Even as he held you as you both fell into a mid morning nap afterwards, you could still hear the sinful, wet sounds of your lovemaking playing in your mind over and over.

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothee x reader #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #timothee fluff

[chlodavids]

stuck inside on a rainy day w chan when you had plans to go out

Rainy Day Plans

Warnings: fluff

Pairing: Bang Chan x gn! Reader

Word count: 535

On a dreary, rain-soaked Saturday, Y/N had been looking forward to a day out with her friends. The plan was to explore the city, visit the local cafes, and maybe catch a movie. But as fate would have it, the heavens opened up, and a torrential downpour began just as she was about to leave her apartment.

Frustrated and disheartened, Y/N watched the raindrops race down her windowpane. She had been looking forward to this day for weeks, and now it seemed like all her plans were ruined. She scrolled through her phone, seeing messages from her friends canceling one by one. It was a rainy day, and nobody wanted to venture out in such weather.

Just when Y/N was about to resign herself to a day of Netflix and boredom, there was a knock at her door. Surprised, she opened it to find none other than Bang Chan, her closest friend and confidant. He stood there, drenched from head to toe, with an apologetic grin.

"I couldn't bear the thought of you being stuck inside all day," he said, shaking off the water from his hair. "So, I thought I'd bring the plans to you!"

Y/N couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness. "You're soaking wet," she observed, stepping aside to let him in. "Come on, let's get you out of those wet clothes before you catch a cold."

Bang Chan laughed, appreciating her concern. He followed her to the bathroom, where she handed him a towel and some dry clothes she had lying around. As he changed, Y/N couldn't help but feel a warmth in her heart, grateful for such a caring friend.

Once Bang Chan was dry and comfortable, they huddled on the couch with blankets, their rainy day adventure taking on a different form. Y/N had a collection of board games and an assortment of snacks ready for a day like this. They decided to play a game of Scrabble, unleashing their competitive spirits.

The hours passed in a blur as they played game after game, sharing laughter and stories between rounds. The rain continued to pour outside, but inside Y/N's cozy apartment, it felt like a world of its own. They ordered some comfort food for lunch, continuing to enjoy each other's company.

As the day turned into evening, Bang Chan and Y/N decided to watch a movie. They curled up on the couch, sharing a blanket, their shoulders touching. Y/N couldn't help but steal glances at him when she thought he wouldn't notice, appreciating the way he made this unexpected rainy day so much brighter.

As the credits rolled on the movie, Bang Chan turned to Y/N with a smile. "You know," he began, "sometimes the best plans are the ones you never make."

Y/N nodded in agreement. "Today turned out to be pretty amazing, even though we got stuck inside."

With a soft chuckle, Bang Chan replied, "Well, I'm glad I could be your rainy day companion. Who needs to go out when you've got great company and board games, right?"

Y/N couldn't have agreed more. The rain may have thwarted their original plans, but it brought them closer together on this unexpected and memorable day spent inside.

#bang chan #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you

[pastelsandpining]

milk & honey

masterlist

almost 9k words of hurt/comfort, nsfw

pre-TotK

Read on AO3

cw for scar mention, injury mention, blood mention

<><><><><>

The downpour of rain trickles off of the roof in steady streams, filling the atmosphere with a quiet, calming sort of noise. The ground is soaked to its very core; it's evident in the puddle of mud beneath the tree just outside of their house. Link can see it from his kitchen window--at least, in those rare moments when the rain lets up. Aside from that gentle pitter-patter, there's no other sign of life. All the people of Hateno are inside, all the animals are quiet, and everything that makes up the usual symphony of life in the village is taking cover. It’s been raining all day.

That’s the thing about the wet season: Link finds it can bring them all to the lowest point. The cool air and petrichor is nice at first, but how long can they go without setting foot outside to bask in the sunlight? When the clouds are gray and persistent, there’s no hope of any warmth shining through. It feels almost as if it’ll go on forever.

In these dreary instances, they try to find simple things to do to keep their spirits up. Most of the time, it isn’t hard. Any time he gets to spend with Zelda is a blessing, whether they can adventure as they do so or not.

Their idea for the night had been to make soup. What's better at combating the cold and the gloom than a warm dish made from the heart? That's what Zelda likes to say whenever they make her favorite: hearty soup. It's rich, creamy, and she loves to help him make it--which is, without a doubt, his favorite part about it. He likes to watch her hands as they stir, as they bring a spoonful to her lips that he pretends he doesn’t see—but she can’t taste anything until all the ingredients have blended together into something magical. In order for that to happen, he needs to finish with the vegetables.

He dries the freshly rinsed radishes and places them upon the wooden cutting board she’d gotten him months ago, when she’d grown tired of watching him use his kitchen counter—hardly fitting for the most forceful of tasks (he loves her for her thoughtfulness, really. It’ll be very hard to damage his countertop if he uses a cutting board). His hands are steady and careful as he takes up the knife. Wielding a blade of any kind is second nature to him, something his hands knew how to do before his fractured mind could remember why. A cooking knife is by no means a sword; it’s small and light and short, but he knows it no less. The sharp edge glides through the radish as if it’s only water.

“—Purah thinks all we really need is a guardian gear to test it on, but acquiring one requires writing to Robbie, and she thinks he hasn’t a clue about her current…um… predicament.”

Zelda’s been working on an upgrade to the Sheikah Slate runes with Purah for weeks. Link gets so amused by her updates and whatever entertainment comes in the form of what the eccentric genius had said that day, but what he treasures most is watching the way Zelda lights up when she speaks of it. A smile, soft and adoring, takes over his features as he looks her way. She’s never lost her spark, has she? To see her bright eyes, sparkling with all the new possibilities life has finally presented her, it’s all he’s ever wanted.

Zelda pauses midway through a sentence when her head turns enough for her to see him. Her cheeks tint pink and her brows raise. There’s a flustered smile on her face when she says,

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Link shrugs his shoulders with a grin. He knows she knows the answer already; it has everything to do with being hopelessly in love with her.

“You have my heart,” he says, holding up a heart-shaped slice of the radish. Zelda rolls her eyes, playful though it is, and he bites back the cackle that threatens to leave him. She can pretend to hate his puns all she wants; he’s caught her playing along more than enough times to call her bluff.

“You’re ridiculous,” Zelda replies. She shakes her head and Link sets the slice back down with a snort. His careful hands dump the slices of radish on the chopping board into the simmering, creamy soup, then he turns to stick both to-be-cleaned objects into the soapy water of the sink as Zelda stirs the final bits of their meal together.

Continue on AO3

#zelink #totk zelink #botw zelink #smut fic #it’s like my second one ever #hurt/comfort #link struggles and zelda helps him #smut and fluff #smut and angst and fluff

[farfromstrange]

hi can i request for angst w no comfort, matt murdock fic wherein the reader died i like angst 🥲, specially your work "angel on the roof" thank you !!!

Thank you so much for your request, lovely! I was so excited (that sounds horrible in this context) when I saw it and I was even more excited when I read what you requested (Yeah, it still sounds horrible). Angst is my forte, and I've really been in an angsty mood lately. So, I wrote this in two hours and I cried while writing it. I hope you like it! (And I also hope you're doing okay, sweetheart.) This is not about suicide like the other hurt/no comfort fic, but it still hurts the same. I hope I could live up to your expectations!

Back To December | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: He fell for you hard and fast, but all good things eventually slip through Matt Murdock's fingers, and he is left alone all over again.

Warnings: ANGST, hurt/no comfort, Character death, mentions of blood, there's a really creepy guy at the beginning (but no sexual assault!), yeah this is just angsty as fuck

Word Count: 3.2k (I got carried away)

It’s a cold December afternoon. The remains of this week’s snowfall are covering the ground and it’s cold, so cold, but he can barely feel it. Something else, something colder, something far more painful is creeping up his spine. It’s not because his clothes are soaked or the snowflakes that have latched onto his hair. He feels as if the floor has been ripped out under his feet, and it has been a long time since he last felt this way. Loneliness has become his closest companion over time and he got used to always losing and hardly ever winning. Over time, he got used to grieving, he got used to being left, and he got used to a painful hollowness in his chest that eventually started to occur more often. The hole in his chest has always been there, but merely a few days ago it had been somewhat filled. 

Matt Murdock has never experienced much happiness in his life. He tried to fight the demons in his head, but eventually, he succumbed to them. He succumbed to the claws that tore at his chest and dragged him down into an endless abyss. He used to associate the color gray with his life because when he thought about it, there has never been much color. He got used to existing rather than living until someone stepped into his life that was anything but dreary. 

It was in summer, he remembers, the third of July when he was walking the streets of Hell’s Kitchen on his way home from work. The noise of the city moved into the back of his mind as he tried to focus on anything but the deafening sound of injustice and everyday life. They often blurred together and mixed when he wasn’t focusing, and sometimes that was worse than when he purposely focused on his surroundings. 

He was just casually walking when he heard the distinctive fast sound of footsteps straight ahead. He tilted his head curiously, not sure if it was just another teenager playing tag with their friends in the middle of the night or someone walking fast, or perhaps someone who needed his help. It was then he stretched his senses out to judge the situation, but by the time he focused on the erratic heartbeat coming his way, the person who it belonged to already stood in front of him. 

It was the third of July, he knows, when you came into his life. 

You were just walking home from work when a man emerged from behind one of the cars parked along the street of the shop you were working at. You had closed early, which was rare but not impossible, especially not with the heat so heavy that no one wanted to set foot outside. Even with air conditioning, you felt like dying every time you went to work. 

You tried not to think too much about the stranger, your keys already clutched tightly in your hand, but when you sped up, the man sped up too. It was then your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You were a terrible fighter and would have broken your thumb before you could have caused any serious damage, so instead, you ran. You ran until the streets got lighter and finally, God finally, someone else walked the street you were on. 

Not paying much mind to who the stranger was, you stopped right in front of him. Your hand caught his sleeve - you felt guilty because well, if the glasses hadn’t been an indicator, his cane surely was, and using a blind guy to get out of being mugged or God forbid, possibly even raped, felt wrong but he seemed like the kind of guy that wouldn’t mind helping. It was something about him that made you feel safe, almost. 

“I need you to pretend we know each other,” you said entirely out of breath, one of your sweaty strands of hair caught on your dry lips. 

He frowned, tilting his head in the direction of the other man’s steps and he realized just what you were running from. 

“Please,” you begged, and he could only imagine the panic in your eyes. 

He licked his lips. “What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know, just- oh, for fuck’s sake! Kiss me.”

“Sorry, what?” Matt stammered. He thought of many things, one of them being completely screwing his disguise and beating whoever was following you into a puddle until he couldn’t walk anymore, but your request was… odd and a complete surprise, at that. 

The more he thought about it though, it made sense. The man would only ease up if he saw Matt as your boyfriend and not a strange blind guy. 

You looked at him expectantly and the closer the man behind you came, the faster your heart beat. If he wasn’t willing to help you, you would have to run again. 

Fortunately, he caught himself fast enough to pull you in by the waist - his strength surprised you - and pressed his lips to yours. That he would do it, you never expected. It had been a weird request, of course, but the only thing you thought of that would make a possible rapist turn the other way. 

You caught yourself on his arms, leaning into the kiss as if it were real, and partly it felt like it. He was an amazing kisser, you noticed, and if this had been a date you would have thoroughly enjoyed it, but the only thought in your mind was getting rid of the man that was following you. Or had been following you, anyway, because upon seeing the kiss that looked more realistic than it was, he stopped and turned back around. 

When the stranger pulled away, you forgot how to breathe for a second. Your cheeks flushed, the blood rushing to your head immediately, and you pressed a hand in front of your mouth. Matt thought it was cute, although he had to contain himself from hunting down the man that even led you to make such a rash decision in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact that he was blind that made you believe he was on the good side, and the kiss seemed to have saved your ass, which he was glad about because fighting someone right in front of the eyes of an unknown stranger was not on his to-do list. The kiss hadn’t been either, but it had already happened and the awkward silence made matters worse. 

Your breath hitched in your throat again. “I’m so sorry,” you said, muffled through your hand. 

“Um,” Matt forgot how to speak. 

“I just wasn’t sure what to do and you know, most men don’t take no for an answer and I thought- God, I am so sorry. You probably think I’m a psycho now.”

He quickly caught himself again. “Oh, no. No, I absolutely don’t think that,” he said. “I was just… surprised?”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I promise I’m not usually like this.”

“You were scared, I understand.”

“I really didn’t know what else to do.”

It was the truth, and the more he spoke to you, the more he realized your heartrate was going down. You were safe. 

“Okay,” you bit your lip, “Okay, I should probably go. Nice meeting you. I’m just gonna-” as you distanced yourself, you pointed behind yourself in the direction you were originally headed, “Yeah, I’m just gonna go.”

“Wait,” Matt heard himself object to your attempt to leave. 

You halted, surprised he would even want to talk to you after what happened. A small smile rested on his lips. The same lips you had just kissed. 

“What’s your name?” he asked. 

The first time he heard your name was on July third, the night dark and hot, and it was the same night you kissed him for the first time. It was a kiss out of desperation, a way to save yourself from the grabby hands of a stranger, and yet, when he asked for your name, he received an answer. 

“I’m Matt,” he introduced himself. 

July third was the day you came into his life and from then on, you refused to leave. His senses got used to your scent, your taste, and the feel of your skin under his fingers when he had first kissed you. His ears got used to the sound of your voice, and the feeling of your name on his tongue became natural. 

One meeting turned into two and eventually, only a month after, in fact, he realized he had done the one thing he never expected himself to do ever again: he fell for you. He fell fast and hard, the first tint of color in his dull life, and the pain in his chest got a little more bearable with you by his side. You became the light in the darkness, the one person he could always turn to, and when you found out who he was - who the man behind the black mask was, you didn’t run. 

You found out one night when you used your key to get into his apartment. He hadn’t answered any of your calls and he felt guilty, but then you stood in his apartment just as he walked through the door. He had a huge gash on his side and he was sure he wouldn’t make it to the couch in time. When he heard your heartbeat and the way it jumped when you saw him, he was sure death would be kinder than having to listen to you leaving, but the anticipated moment of rejection never came. 

The light of his life stayed. You had dropped everything to hold him up. You patched him up and you held him as he writhed in pain, and when he was finally patched up and safe, he caught your wrist. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked him. 

He hissed, not sure if it was because of emotional or physical pain, but perhaps both. You sounded small, worried almost, but the sound of your heartbeat was the most familiar to him and so he knew that you weren’t scared, you were merely curious. 

And that was when he knew that he had fallen head over heels in love with you.

“I wanted to protect you,” he said. 

The thought of losing you had been his greatest fear. You were the color he desperately needed, the reason for him to keep going. He thought that, with your help, he could make it. He thought his life could finally be normal. 

But even the most beautiful of flowers die eventually. It’s a slow death, usually, a constant process of withering. With you though, it was fast and it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. You weren’t a flower, you were human and he realized that too late one night. 

On July third, he swore to protect you, always. He swore to save you, to hold you and take care of you until his dying breath. On the third of December though, his worst fear became reality, and suddenly, the tint of color in his life was flickering like the billboard outside of his apartment that you had often complimented. The tint of color in his life, the beautiful flower, the light that kept him going, stood right in front of him and he barely had the time to open his mouth when the shot rang out. 

Why did you have to follow him, anyway? You were foolish but you had been so worried, you stormed out of your apartment, determined to find him. The rooftop you finally found him on was dark just like his life had been before you. 

You were so relieved to see him alive, you didn’t notice the dark shadow on the floor or the clinging of metal that filled the air. “Matt!” you called out, but his mouth opened and instead of words, you could hear the faint blow of a gun. 

The shot rang out and for a moment you thought it hit him. For a moment, you were worried, and then the sharp pain tore through your abdomen and you knew, the shot wasn’t meant for him.

His arms caught you as you fell. Matt wasn’t sure what was worse, the feeling of your blood running through his fingers as he pushed on the gaping wound on your abdomen or the erratic sound of your fading heartbeat as it tried its best to beat for you, to supply your body with blood, but it couldn’t pump so fast as to catch up with the speed you were losing it again. 

“Matt-” you smiled when you saw his face. “You’re safe,” you said. “I thought you weren’t safe.”

“Shh,  sweetheart,” he told you, and he tried hard not to sob - your heart had become his favorite song, a symphony that was unique in itself, but now it was running out like a broken record. The sand in the hourglass ran faster than he could catch you. 

You choked. The missing fear in your voice told him that you knew. Oh, you knew you weren’t going to make it. 

“You foolish, foolish- Jesus,” he bent over you, his hand still tightly pressed against your abdomen, but the sharp pain you had felt was gone. You just felt numb now. “I told you to stay home,” he said. His voice cracked at the end because now even he knew, deep down, that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 

And he had just found you. It didn’t seem fair. 

You sucked in a sharp breath. “I was just-” you coughed again, and he could taste the copper in the air from where it ran down the corner of your mouth. “I was worried,” you breathed. 

He shushed you again. “It’s okay,” the first tear descended his cheek and met with yours, “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna get you out of here and fixed up, okay? Hey-” Your eyes drooped, but he held your face with such force, you felt compelled to open them again, but you were tired. Oh, you were so tired. 

It was your time to tell him, “It’s okay.”

Your body was wracked with a terrible wave of shivers and even though he was holding you tightly to his chest, his body was just cold air to you. Everything was cold.

“No, don’t close your eyes! You have to stay with me, sweetie, okay? Just a little longer.”

“I can’t.” And he knew you couldn’t.

“You don’t get to do that, not yet. It’s not time yet. We have so much-” he grunted in the back of his throat. “Remember you told me about the pyramids in Egypt? You wanted to go there,” he said, and at this point, he was crying more than he was smiling. “So you have to stay awake, okay? Stay awake for me, baby.”

You reached out your weak hand, touching his cheek. There was blood on your fingers and it smeared on his cheekbone. Your touch was cold. You used to be so warm and now you were simply cold, and your heartbeat turned into tiny beats after another. 

“We both know I’m not gonna make it,” you said with all the strength you had left. 

“No,” he was determined, “Don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine.”

“Matthew-” the call of his full name was almost unfamiliar. “Matthew, listen. Listen to my heart.” 

“I am, baby, and it is still beating, that means there is still time. I can save you. I can-”

“No, you don’t understand,” you said. Your hand moved from his cheek to the left side of his chest. “I’m always going to be here.” 

“Stop,” he sobbed. “God, don’t do this to me. You can’t do this. You have to hold on.”

“It’s time,” you said. 

“No, baby, please-”

“It’s time for me to go, Matthew.”

“No.”

Your hand dropped, your muscles too weak to hold your body up anymore. Thud, thud, thud. He focused on your heartbeat, but he soon realized that it wasn’t yours, it was his. His own heartbeat was louder than yours, but it had the same beat, it played to the same rhythm as yours. Your bodies aligned, but the blood, oh the blood. Your scent was overshadowed by the smell and the taste of pure blood and it made him sick. 

“I-” you choked again, but the sentence you wanted to say needed to be said, no matter how strong those claws were that were just waiting to pull you underwater. “I love you,” your voice broke like fragile glass upon impact, “and I always will.”

His forehead fell against yours. You were so cold. Matt held you, he held you to keep you warm, but you were getting colder by the minute and your blood seeped through his fingers, through his shirt, and that was when he realized. 

“No,” he desperately felt for your heart, but the familiar melody was gone. He couldn’t feel you, he couldn’t touch you, he couldn’t smell you. He could only hold your limp body as the life left your body and your soul with you. 

On December third, you died in his arms. On December third, he had to deliver your body to the hospital, but you were long gone when they found you. He knew you were gone, but he had held you for a while longer, trying to find the life inside of you, trying to keep his hope alive, but on December third, you died, and with you, all the color in his life faded into the darkest of blacks. 

Matt Murdock remembers the day he met you and he remembers the day you died. As he is standing over your grave now, the snow feels numb on his soaked clothes. What is creeping up his spine is worse than the cold of December. The pain of losing you is colder than snow, it’s colder than anything he has ever felt before. The cold has crept into his heart and frozen whatever life had been left inside of him. You died and he couldn’t save you. He had to bury you because he just couldn’t save you. 

You were the light of his life and Matt lost that, too, like he has lost everything in his life. It's then he truly starts to believe that everything he touches is supposed to rot and die. Everything he has ever touched, no matter how beautiful, has turned ugly, dark, and gray, and then eventually, dead. Cold, dark, and dead.

You were an explosion of wonderful colors but now you were gray, just like his life. A gray stone on the cemetery behind Clinton Church, your body cold, your blood branded into his skin and he cries. He stands at your grave and cries because you’re still in his head, you’re still in his heart, and it kills him that a memory is all he has left of you. He longs to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you like he had many times before, but you’re gone. 

His sweater smells of your perfume, his sheets smell of your bodywash and your essence still lingers in the air of his apartment, no matter how many times he opens a window, and then there is your name that suddenly everyone seems to have. He searches for you when it rings out, but you’re not there. 

On December third, you died, and with your memory lingering everywhere, he would go back to December all the time. And it breaks him to know you’re not there. 

#tw: death #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #matt murdock x gender neutral reader #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock fic #daredevil fic #hurt/no comfort #matt murdock angst #this is pure pain #request <3

[underscar]

DREARY NIGHTS

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro/Female Reader

Summary: Milky puddles of darkness and shadows plaster the empty halls of Jujutsu High. Everyone residing inside the school was under the spell of rest, except Megumi. The "death" of Itadori Yuuji possessed him to remain awake night and day for a week now. Megumi didn't even know why he was so upset about that idiot. He barely knew the kid. But his heart was still heavy. Instead of nightmares, he kept thinking about it all the time. He wandered the halls like a ghost. The last few days, watching you sleep, despite how awkward it may be if he was caught, was therapeutic. This night, in particular, he catches you crying as he peeks into your room, and you sense your boyfriend's pain.

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

A/N: Trying this tumblr thing again.

Now I gotta repost these oneshots bro 😵‍💫

WORD COUNT // 2764 words

Milky puddles of darkness and shadow plaster the ghost halls of Jujutsu High. The wind howled a solemn sound outside the campus, the melody haunting the dormitory.

Everyone residing inside the school was under the spell of rest, but Megumi, unfortunately, was possessed to stay awake for the last few moons. 

He’s been under this curse of no rest for a week now, and his mind didn’t seize him a break. Itadori Yuuji was on his mind, someone he hardly could even call his friend due to how short they had known each other.

Megumi didn’t even know why he was so upset over that idiot anyways, he barely knew the kid. But his heart was still heavy. Just from the few encounters they had spent together, he felt a spark of friendship develops. 

He had met Itadori when he was in a state of loneliness and dread. Instead of nightmares, he was stuck with constant, possessive thoughts of the tragic event of Itadori’s death that he witnessed through his bloodied eyes. And because of…this he wandered the halls like an eclipsed spirit.

In the beginning, he was the sole first year, beside you, his girlfriend, at Jujutsu High. Until Itadori showed up. To also add to relevance, recently another student, Nobara Kugisaki, had also shown up soon before Itadori’s unfortunate, and juvenile death. But the side reason he had this hole in his chest, a hole of weighted dread, was because of your lengthy absence.

You had been sent on an internship of sorts a month before the Itadori Yuuji and Sukuna situation. The ‘internship’ was for you to join experienced Jujutsu sorceries on a long-time, long-distance mission outside of Japan.

Somewhere in India, he remembers you telling him. Through your constant text from him while out on this trip, you told him happily how you promoted a grade up due to your helpfulness and proof of development and confidence in your technique. He was proud of you of course, but your success also made him question himself.

Question himself on what he wanted to accomplish, that he was destined to succeed and produce things great like you have so far and young. You were a model student, it probably wasn’t best for him to compare himself. 

But he couldn’t help it.

At the beginning of the week, you had come back to the school and unpacked in your dorm. You arrived back at the school right after Itadori’s death was announced and arrived from your trip…to a solemn environment.

Megumi offered to help but you were persistent. He had honestly felt bad for your underwhelming arrival home. He had issues…expressing his emotions for you.

Expressing how happy he was when you walked through the door, how lonely he had been when you were gone. He had desperately desired you. And the first thing that came to his mind when he learned of Itadori's death was your physical comfort. But even when you arrived, he found himself not wanting to speak of his tragedy. He didn’t want to upset you when you arrived home. What Megumi wanted then, was for things to just go back to normal.

Back to just being content with you, and not worrying about other first years or depressing drama. He knew in the back of his mind that you all had to move in cause time and life would not stop to let him cover his feelings.

The Goodwill Event was happening sooner than he would like and all of you had to prepare instead of sitting on your asses with a frown. He knew this…but couldn’t change how he felt, and the lack of motivation in his step.

However, now he’s on a solemn walk that seems to never stop. And a dream that never ends. A headache that builds up like pouring rain, and a young, grievous heart tugging him. What had comforted him on these nights so far, far better than rest could, was watching you mindlessly sleep the night sky away and into a beautiful morning.

Now don’t get him wrong, he knows and acknowledges how creepy it is. Especially if he was caught. But you…just eased his mind, and he needed that, especially now.

Megumi walked the hall, passing spare dorm rooms in the process, barefooted. The carpet scraped his feet, and the moonlight’s flow showered through the connected windows that followed the hallway to the very end.

His steps begin to falter before coming to a slow stop. He stopped in front of a particular room. Reaching for the doorknob to check up on your sleeping figure, he hears a timid hiccup. 

His hands flinched away from the knob as if it had shocked his pale hand away. His brows curved. Are you crying? The halls were still, and the silence embodied him in full. He stood as still as a mannequin in front of your dorm door, waiting for an itch of a sound to escape the four walls. One second goes by and no sound emits, then another, and another, just a paused silence.

Megumi was getting anxious. Was he hearing things? He pulled at the loose strings of his grey sweatpants as he waited for a second longer for a noise, a sign of anything that he wasn’t going mad. The string twirled in his hand as he twisted and turned his sweatpants strings knot.

He must’ve been hearing things, he thought as he turned away. Maybe he was going crazy from lack of rest. Before he could think further a hearty sob transmitted through the door and to his ears, making them twitch ever so slightly. He shook his head, causing a tornado to form, and making his dark hair even more disheveled.

"Ah, fuck it.”

He curved the knob, and the door slightly creaked open. He peeked his head inside the dark, but familiar room. Megumi knew your dorm better than he knew his own. The mid-opened closet had various pictures of you and him, some with Satoru and the other second years. It was a bit dusty due to your lack of appearance as of late, so your window was left open, bringing in a melodic light from the moon, and a cool sigh of wind. His eyes shifted onto you, primarily. Moonbeams stained you, and crystallized tears poured from your eyes.

You had yet to notice his sudden appearance, so you continued to cry your song, and drain your tears. The wind shivered the leaves and tree branches outside your window. Megumi wasn’t sure if it was the wind or your presence that was bringing a chill up his spine. Your abrupt sob brings him back to attention. 

He scratched the back of his hair before suddenly making his presence known. He calls out your name gently so as not to startle you, causing the tears you allowed to fall on your face to come to a sturdy stop.

You turned to him, processing his appearance. Half his body was peeking in through your opened door. Your eyes were startled like a shocked kitten and they glistened from your tears and twinkled in the moonlight.

Your heart backflipped when you suddenly heard your boyfriend’s voice. Your stifled cries quickly came to stop as you stared from your bed, at your boyfriend of years, gripping your bed comforter. 

He questioned you, gently. “Why are you crying?“ 

You hiccup before responding, wiping your stained face. "It’s nothing to worry about Megumi, I just h-had a bad dream,” you mustered. Subconsciously, you scoot over, making room on your bed for Megumi. 

"Oh." He walks in fully, closing the door behind himself. "What about?”

He places his hand in the pockets of his sweats as you stutter, the cause of your tears picking back the pace. “Well, I-It was,” you hiccupped. The dream now was sort of a blur, at this point you didn’t know how long you were crying. 

Megumi stood in his spot, in front of where you laid on your bed, hand tense in his pocket, anxiously waiting for your answer. He assumed it was something awful that happened on your mission out of the country, and he felt bad that he hadn’t asked you when you’d first arrived home.

The things you must’ve seen, and the experiences you went through, must’ve been traumatizing.

His eyes narrowed.

And he wasn’t there for you. Megumi looked down at himself. Calling himself a bad boyfriend internally.

You shook your head, tears spilling everywhere on your comforter as you exclaimed the reason for your wave of sadness. The cause of the pain in your heart and dread. Megumi listened. Your voice was higher in pitch, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the entire school had heard you state your ridiculous, depressing, dream.

“It was about Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure!!”

His mouth went dry. “What….?”

His eyebrows curved, and his pine eyes emptied. You’re crying over an anime of all things? 

His mind was slowly processing the information as you explained your dream in further detail, wiping the tears forming. “After my internship in India, I rewatched that Stardust Crusaders episode where they traveled to India before bed and I guess I had a dream about it. The character’s death always makes me cry!”

You lean against the wall and your eyes water as you recall the characters that didn’t make it to Diamond Is Unbreakable.

Megumi stared at you, unimpressed. “That’s what you were crying about?“

You whined. "Don’t judge! It was sad, okay!” You reach and dig your hands into his right pocket and pull his hand to hold. Megumi didn’t protest. He still, however, stood in front of your bed while you rested your back against the wall against your bed. The only thing keeping you both connected was your entwined hands in the moonlight. 

His hands were so warm, you couldn’t replace them with anything.

Megumi didn’t say anything. You pouted at his disregard of a depressing scene from an anime you loved! You pull on his hand, pulling him closer, making his knee now touch your mattress. 

He stared into your eyes, while you stared up into his from your bed. You looked so cute pouting up at him, he thought. 

He squeezed your hand, and you soon squeezed back. A wave of calmness crossed you. You stared at Megumi. It was nice to see him again, see him in person. To touch him, and to really comfort him. Especially now, when he needs you the most. Your tone wavered.

“Why are you up anyway, Megumi? Bad dream too?“

Megumi was quiet again. He didn’t even get the chance to dream. He looked away from you, his eyes shifty. You sit up straight and pull him onto the bed beside you. The impact of his fall onto the bed makes it bounce for a second, and now he sits beside you, back against the wall. He was still quiet though. You rubbed the hand you held with your other. Leaning your head on his shoulder, your brows slump down as you stare at his perfect face, trying to read him.

To get him to say something to you. You rested your chin on his shoulder and ask again.

“Megumi? Why are you up anyway?”

Your question wasn’t answered. Instead of an answer or words, he abruptly kisses you, shutting you up also.

You freeze, his lips moved against yours passionately. You squeezed his hand as your eyes fluttered closed, and your heartbeat began to accelerate. You turned your head to the side for a better angle.

As he slowly pulled away, he rested his free hand on your cheek, blush spread on his face like cotton candy.

When your eyelashes fluttered open, his dark green eyes boldly stared back at you, and warmth filled your cheeks and stomach.

However, he still didn’t say anything, but his action spoke louder than any words. You whisper. "Is it about Itadori?” 

Megumi sighed and turned away from your eyes. Instead now found your locked hands more of an interesting sight at the moment. A second passes and a breeze comes inside. 

After half a minute, his lips begin to move. “I haven’t been able to sleep,” he admits, still staring at your entwined hands.

You look down, biting your bottom lip. nervously. What could you say? You didn’t know Itadori, but you weren’t out of the loop either. Megumi never told you how close he was beginning to feel toward Itadori. You honestly hadn’t witnessed your boyfriend develop a friendship with someone in a very long time. You were told by the second years how it was suspected that the higher-ups got Itadori killed, and you believed them because Satoru didn’t try to dismiss your questions on the rumor.

"I didn’t know Itadori as well as you did, but his death still upsets me,” you sympathized. “I would hate to lose you. I would hate to lose everyone! My parents, friends, teachers, everyone. I wouldn’t be complete without them. Especially without you Megumi, I would be far too upset.” You allowed your heart to spill. 

Before you could tear up further, suddenly, Megumi begins to chuckle, rubbing the tense hand he held. "Everything upsets you. Even anime characters’ deaths,” he teased.

He smiled at you. Your eyes soften at his expression. His dark eyes were exhausted and humble. It was dark inside, but the moonbeams on his face made him glow. You smiled back, bopping your nose with him. 

You bark at him. "No teasing!” You weakly shove his shoulder. Megumi does his fair share of teasing, he can be stoic at times but anyone who knows him knows he’s more than that. But you like him this way, you love when he allows himself to be vulnerable just for a tiny bit. 

Megumi however, liked how you expressed your emotions and thoughts so easily. How it was as easy as breathing for you to admit…that you’d miss him if he died. He loved how much you cared…

You slouch your shoulders. “But seriously Megumi. You can talk to me about anything, you know. I’m always here to listen to you,” you remind him, laying your head back on his shoulder, pouting. Grabbing his hand with the one he isn’t already holding, placing it on top of your entwined hands. 

Megumi sighed. He stared straight ahead at the wall in front of your bed. He nodded. "I know,” he said, barely audible. He leans closer to you. For a second there was an eternal silence that stared at the sight of you two. 

You snuggled your face further into his shoulder, and soon he ends up just wrapping his arm around you. In return you wrap your arms around his torso, unlinking your hands from his. Your eyes were getting heavy, and your throat was a tad dry but you didn’t want to end Megumi’s embrace.

You look up at his ghostly face. "Do you want to stay the night? And risk Gojō-sensei’s teasing once he catches us. Am I worth that big of a risk?” you teased him. 

Satoru had a habit of teasing you both, mostly Megumi, really only a Megumi, from any sign of intimacy you both showed. Rarely did you both do public displays of affection. Not only because of Satoru but he did play a minor role. 

You leaned up to sleepily kiss his cheek.

Megumi’s face was content and he didn’t fully react to your kiss. His thoughts were calm for once, and his heart wasn’t as heavy as before. Half of the dread he carried, dispersed. You were so lovely, he thought. Itadori was still on his mind, despite him being blessed to be in your embrace right now.

But for now, he’ll enjoy this moment, and allow himself to feel and accept the pain and remorse he feels for his friend.

He shook his head. “You’re worth every risk.”

You smile lazily at his response. Lack of rest and love behind your clouded eyes. You close them before whispering right into his ear, paralyzing him. “I love you, ‘gumi.” Your weight pulled at his shoulder. 

He leaned his head back against the wall, fluffy hair acting as a cushion. He pulled you closer to his warmth, embracing you as lovingly as he could. “I love you too,” he murmured.

“I think…I’ll stay the night,” he whispered. He gazed at you, but you were already fast asleep on his shoulder. The sight eased him to slumber.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

© UNDERSCAR 2023 - All rights are reserved to underscar. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarize, translate or screenshot my work: this will also include not reposting my writing on other social media platforms and writing platforms.

#© UNDERSCAR #X FEMALE READER #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #jjk x female reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x female reader #megumi x reader