#(a reaction i've been the most used to. either that or just silence)

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

Please BE EXCITED about stuff you like/ want to be excited about 💞 That's what life supposed to be about, finding joy in the smallest things, in the things we enjoy and love. And the people that judge us for having that joy in our hearts lose their own life, because they spend too much time judging someone else's life instead of doing something with their own. FUCK them

this is one of my favorite asks and i love you

[ellecdc]

Hello dearest, how are you?

Congratulations for the exams🥳 hope you get better(because I know exams can get us mad LOL)

CBBH

Do you think Draco would ever pull the “you are not even my real mother” to Vix, and if he did what would be the others reaction

hi sweets! thanks for your sweet words and also your request - I've not been spending much time in my CBBH universe but I know this is how most of you found me, so here's your request!!

Sirius Black x Vixen!reader who deal with a tempertantrum from Draco

CW: brief mention of the war, brief mention of character death, adopted child worries, parental struggles, fluff, hurt/comfort

Sirius barely had time to throw up a silencing charm down the hallway to the baby’s room before he heard the door slam and heavy foot falls head towards the kitchen. 

“Draco Malfoy!” He heard you call sternly; Sirius winced at the use of the full name. “Do not walk away from me when I am talking to you.”

“You’re not talking to me, you’re shouting at me.” The ten-year-old argued back.

“I would not have to shout if you would- I’m not arguing with you.” You corrected yourself, finally following Draco into the kitchen where Sirius could see his son’s red and frustrated face whilst yours looked frustrated and exhausted. “I have specifically told you again and again to not fly your brooms south of the manor!”

“I know!”

“Then tell me why I had to come chasing you lot all the way to the Jones’ farm  lest you be seen by muggles, or worse, hit the power lines! You know I don’t just tell you not to go there to be boring, right? To be bossy? It’s to keep you safe, Draco.” You insisted severely. 

Draco had the audacity to scoff at you for that. “Why are you only shouting at me about this? Why not yell at Harry, huh? He was there too!”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek as you raised your eyebrow at the boy. “Because Harry is not mine, Draco. It is my job as your mum to-”

“BUT YOU’RE NOT MY MUM!” Draco screamed, causing the room to fall painfully silent. 

You and Sirius had never tag-teamed in your parenting; there’d never really been a need to. Draco had always been a super easy child, and both of you trusted the other to handle it, or, to let the other know when you needed back up. 

But this, this was uncharted territory, and Sirius wasn’t completely proud of the fierce protectiveness he felt roar to life inside of him as you let out a disbelieving breath. After the war - your death disappearance, finally finding you again only to have you snatched out from under his nose, and then to finally be able to care for you the way you so deserved to be cared for - this felt like an assault on Sirius’ favourite person; son-or-not, Draco had crossed a line. 

“If Harry’s not your son, I’m not your son either! So sod off with your lecture!”

“Draco.” Sirius barked, causing you to hold out a hand in your direction.

“Sirius, don’t.”

“Love, he-” He started.

“Go to your room, Draco.” You ordered; a determination in your eyes Sirius wasn’t sure he’d ever seen from you before.

It didn’t appear Draco had either, if the slight wavering in his glare was any indication. But it appeared his frustration and stubbornness won out as he continued to stare at you defiantly.

“Go to your room, now.” You repeated quietly.

The boy finally turned and stomped his way down the hall before slamming his bedroom door behind him; Sirius wanted to smack him upside the head for that alone, let alone what he’d just said to you. 

“What the hells has gotten into him?” Sirius asked in disbelief, seeming to startle you out of your shock as you moved to grab a glass of juice from the cool storage.

“He’s just frustrated.” You muttered quietly.

“We don’t talk to each other like that.” Sirius argued, earning him a tired sigh from you.

“Well, apparently we do now.” You said as you sat at the table across from him. 

Now that you were stationary, Sirius could clearly see the reflection of the manor grounds from your glassy eyes as you stared unseeingly out the window.

“You okay, my love?” He asked quietly, reaching a hand out across the table to yours. You sniffled and took his hand quickly; your muscles relaxing slightly as he rubbed soothing circles across your wrist with his thumb. 

“I’m fine.” 

And there may have been a period of time where Sirius would have believed that, but the two of you were nine years into your parenting game, and fourteen years into your relationship, so Sirius liked to think he knew better.  “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Don’t.” You spat; your hand creating a death grip around Sirius’ hand forcing him to return his arse to the seat. “He’s upset, Pads.” You offered more gently. “Let him cool down.”

“How many times have you told James the same of me?” Sirius teased, eliciting a sad smile from you, though it was a smile nonetheless. 

“He’s just like his dad.” You whispered, looking close to tears again. 

“He didn’t mean it, my love.” He implored, causing you to shake your head. 

“Doesn’t make it not true.”

“Vix…”

“She would be doing such a better job than me, Siri.” You let out through a choked sob. “She should be here with him; he deserves his mother.”

“He has his mother.” Sirius argued; feeling the protective anger bubbling up again in his oesophagus. 

“Sirius.”

“He deserves his mother, but he was gifted with you, Vix; we all were.” Sirius pressed severely. “He is unbelievably lucky to have a mum like you.”

You took a shuddering breath and let it out with a sigh. “I just wish I knew I was doing a good job with him.”

“You are.” Regulus said in a bored tone, causing the two of you to jump nearly a foot in the air.

“Buggering fuck- how long have you been there!?” Sirius shrilled.

“We were literally mid-conversation before your wife and child stormed in, Sirius.” Regulus drawled. 

“Fucking hells.” 

“Children are bastards.” Regulus continued as if the two of you weren’t currently trying to restart your hearts. “And just because you’re doing a great job with him doesn’t mean Draco’s any less of a bastard.”

“Okay, well, I don’t know that you should be calling my son a bastard?” You argued in the form of a question.

“Well he’s sort of acting like one.” Sirius muttered petulantly, earning him a kick in the shin under the table.

“Narcissa trusted you with him, Y/N.” Regulus pressed; grey eyes boring into yours as memories of the final months of the war that only the two of you were privy to passed through your understanding. “And she was right to.”

And like the creepy fuck he is, Regulus turned and silently left the room; floating like a victorian ghost haunting the halls of Potter Manor.

“He’s a weird bloke.” Sirius proclaimed, earning him another kick in the shin. Luckily for Sirius, he knew the kick was coming and caught your ankle with his hand, holding your foot hostage under the table. “But he’s right, my love. You’re the best mum.”

“As good as Effie?” You asked quietly.

Sirius felt his left eye twitch; he wanted to say yes, because you’re you and you’re his and you’re perfect, but he also felt he couldn’t because…well…Effie was the greatest mother in the whole wide world?

Thankfully, you simply chuckled and reached a hand across the table to caress Sirius’ face. “Thank you, my love.”

He quickly turned his face to kiss the palm of your hand before he stood up.

“Okay, I’m going to go talk to our bastard of a child.”

“Sirius!” You scolded, but he was already half way down the hall. 

Sirius knocked twice before he propped the door to Draco’s bedroom open, where he saw the little squirt laying face down on his bed with his face shoved into his pillow.

Sirius took a steadying breath as he closed the door behind him and moved into his oldest child’s room.

Patience didn’t always come easily to Sirius; that is to say, patience and grace was not his automatic response. 

But he refused to be like his parents; he wanted to be better.

So, he thought of Effie, and Monty, and Hope Lupin, and you, and he sat on the edge of his little boy's bed and placed a gentle hand on his back.

“Hey buddy.” He said quietly, rubbing circles onto his back. The only sign Sirius got that Draco had heard him was a small sob into the boy’s pillow. “What was that about? Hm?” He continued gently.

Draco let in a (quite disgusting, if you asked Sirius) sniffle and sat up on his bed; face wet and red, littered with tear track stains.

It always felt like everytime Sirius blinked, his children were bigger than he remembered them. But right now, Draco seemed so small; sitting in front of Sirius was the sad and scared one and a half year old boy who had just watched his birth mother die whilst protecting him as his adopted mum shielded him with her body. 

And in that sad, scared, distraught little boy's face - with eyes so much like his own - Sirius saw himself, too. 

“What’s the matter, Draco?”

“Does she hate me now?” The boy let out in a sob. 

“Does who hate you now?” Sirius asked disbelievingly. 

“Mum.” 

“Oh, buddy, no.” Sirius replied emphatically, pulling his son into his lap and cradling his head to his chest. “Mum could never hate you, my love; she adores you.”

“I don’t know why I said what I said.” Draco admitted.

Sirius let out a sigh as he rocked the two of them back and forth. “It’s because you’re a Black, buddy; our words cut deep. But we have to be better than that, Draco. We need to say what we mean and mean what we say; we never know what tomorrow brings.”

“I love mum, I really do.” He insisted. “I was just so mad at being scolded and…”

“And maybe a little embarrassed being caught doing something you weren’t supposed to?” Sirius offered.

Draco let out a shuddering breath and nodded his head.

“Your mum loves you so much, and it scares her when she thinks you might get hurt. She made a very important promise nearly nine years ago that she would protect you with her life, buddy. She takes that promise very seriously.”

“I’m sorry.” Draco whispered as he sat up in Sirius’ lap. The boy wiped at his face and looked at his father imploringly. 

“I’m not the one who needs an apology, buddy.” Sirius whispered back, pushing a lock of blond hair away from his son’s face and making a mental note that Draco was due for a haircut. 

“What if she doesn’t forgive me?” He asked timidly. 

Sirius leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the boy's forehead. “Your mother has forgiven me for far worse, my love. Come on, let’s go talk to her, hm?” He offered. 

And Draco quickly nodded and slid from his dad’s lap, reaching a hand behind him to grasp Sirius’ before they made their way back to the kitchen to make amends with Draco’s mum.

[retrocesosdestacion]

INSIDE EVERYTHING. | ingrid engen

ingrid engen x reader

genre: smut, minor disastrous.

warnings: +18 writting, semi-public sex, touching, fingering, r sub, maybe a bit realistic, did not reach the limit, half sex, almost caught.

notes: i'm not a big fan of writing smut but i tried to use all my neurons 🤷‍♀️ also i wrote this when i was sleepy so maybe there are some things that don't make much sense

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: It's shopping day, however you are very doubtful on which denim shorts you are going to acquire.

How to solve? Ask a certain norwegian woman for her impression.

“ You're on my mind, been there all the night. I've been missing my midnight queen. ”

Rosenfeld.

❝ No. ❞ You heard Ingrid disagree before you even got fully dressed.

Arms crossed with some shorts folded, back leaning against the cabin wall and beautiful grassy eyes staring at you.

Engen looked more like a fashion critic than your girlfriend. That was the bad side of being her girlfriend: always having an opinion in what you would wear.

❝ Why not?! ❞ You would need good justifications to ditch those shorts. You walked around completely to make sure it was comfortable. ❝ It's perfect. ❞

❝ Too short. ❞ Worse than having a critical girlfriend? Having a jealous and critical girlfriend.

You and Ingrid have been dating for a year. It are flowers, there is nothing to complain about apart from the midfielder's very few inconvenient attitudes.

After all, you were also a bit inconvenient with her.

Your optical orbs landed on the norwegian, indignant and not convinced that these would be the perfect shorts for your summer vacation.

❝ But isn't that the point of shorts? ❞ You argued, extending a hand to Engen, waiting for her to give you the next shorts you would try on.

❝ Yes, but this one is shorter than the normal ones. ❞ Ingrid claimed as she watched you from top to bottom, mainly focusing on the beginning of the curve of your buttock. ❝ And your ass shows. ❞

You rolled your eyes, unzipping your shorts inside the cabin; Just the two of you, there was nothing to worry about.

You wouldn't even need to face the norwegian in person to find out her reaction, as the mirror that almost completed the wall gave it away.

❝ And what’s the problem? ❞ At that point you were mocking with her, but it was these types of comments that touched the player's heart the most. Your eyes landed on your girlfriend's reflection.

Engen was not happy about this at all. ❝ Are you kidding me? ❞ Her perplexed tone was so noticeable that it brought a silly smile off your face.

The laughter on your face was there for a long time, and so was the silence. Not so much, in reality, the only thing that passed through your ears was the scattered sounds of the store's environment.

❝ Give me the next one, miss possessive. ❞ You whispered without receiving a response. Your brow furrowed in doubt, until you noticed Ingrid's sudden approach to you.

So, you turned your body towards the woman, who suddenly handed you one of the next shorts you were going to try on. ❝ We had agreed that you wouldn't call me that anymore. ❞

❝ How can I not call you that if you live up to your name? ❞ You played again, pulling down the shorts you were wearing while you felt her greenish eyes penetrate you.

Basically, it was completely fun to irritate and pay attention to the norwegian, mainly because she gave in very easily to this type of emotion.

It just wasn't expected that this time would be different. Really very different.

You threw the previous shorts on the armchair inside the dressing room and immediately put on the other one. Sincerely? That was the best.

❝ How about that? ❞ You questioned without looking back at Engen. It was comfortable, probably wouldn't be too short in your girlfriend's opinion, and it wasn't long either.

You gave the norwegian some time to formulate an impression about the shorts. And given how long it took, something positive would probably come out of those lips.

Or maybe because Engen's eyes were too busy staring at your thighs and part of your groin.

❝ Not short. And it's more practical. ❞ Gotcha. Ingrid murmured, immediately placing her index finger inside one of yours side waistbands.

Your eyes finally met the midfielder's, who had a very tempting look on her face. And you knew very well what that meant, but not for that moment.

❝ Practical? ❞ You slowly dissipated the word from your lips, confused by what was said.

❝ To take away. ❞

And gradually you discovered it. Your eyes widened, eyebrows rose in surprise and your head began to shake slowly in denial.

❝ No. ❞ You inhaled, shaking your head faster. ❝ No way. ❞ Your cheeks began to burn with tension.

❝ I didn't say anything. ❞ Ingrid smiled the stupid smile of someone who had the best idea in mind. Suddenly, you weren't the one playing with her anymore.

And yes, she is playing with you.

The finger on the waistband previously pulled you closer to Engen's body, who saw the opportunity to seal your lips quickly.

At first you forced yourself to give in, after all, who would deny a kiss from the woman of your life? Presupposedly, you moved your face inches away, before the norwegian started advancing.

❝ Shit, Ingrid. We are not doing it. ❞ You whispered, placing the palm of your hand on the woman's lips and gently pushing them. ❝ We are in public. ❞

❝ No, we are not. ❞ Engen played with the situation once again, moving your hand away. ❝ Please, it will be quick. ❞

Your optical orbs stared at the stupid malicious expression that the midfielder carried on her beautiful and angelic face.

The long silence without responding to the norwegian was the key for Ingrid to carefully seal her lips again. Slowly, your body was pushed against the mirror on the wall. ❝ The chances of them seeing us are low, Kjære. ❞ (darling.)

Your body was already warm from the closed and small place that was the cabin, and now with your girlfriend touching you? It was like adding gasoline in aflame.

Ingrid controlled her lips so well, being nice and slow until you got used to the situation. The taller girl's long, cold, left-handed fingers slid down your torso, looking for some treasure while the other hand delicately grabbed her jaw.

You grunted between the kiss, perhaps due to the tension, to the lack of breath that was present or owing to the fear of someone opening that door.

Your eyes closed, giving up on the situation you found yourself in. Your mind focused on the sweet flavor of Ingrid's lip flesh and creating scenarios of an employee opening that door.

The only thing that sounded inside that semi-dark room were the sticky lips mixing and the sound of the environment.

❝ Ingrid— ❞ You murmured between the kiss, which slowly broke from the moment Engen led them south.

The norwegian's lips found themselves on the skin of the curve of your neck. And that was the final step for you to finally give yourself to the woman.

Your fingers slipped between the black strands, combing and pressing them each time Ingrid gently nibbled or sucked your skin.

If you were looking at her correctly, you could easily see how the midfielder had a short and emphatic smile.

Lips half-open, echoing muffled sounds and your skin getting chills more and more. It was magnificent, incredible and crazy how a certain norwegian woman could make you ecstasy.

❝ That's a bad idea. ❞ The words slowly came out in a murmur between muffled grunts. Ingrid increasingly enhanced her lips on your skin.

The midfielder had the talent of always studying your body with tenor and affection, it was a gift to have Engen's delicate lips glued to your figure.

But despite this, your concern for the environment was the counter to affectionate touches. Even though every cabin had a door, they didn't lock.

And being inside for more than six minutes was also a danger, at some point someone would enter there.

❝ Trust me. ❞ Engen finally released her lips from your body, but it screamed, begged to have her back.

You hated Ingrid for always leaving you at ease in situations like this, always halfway. At this point, your legs were almost begging to open and let the Norwegian do whatever she wants with you.

It was a fight. You wanted to, but you also didn't.

But in reality, there was no turning back from this; Your needy and passionate side won.

Screw it. You're in public, people should see how much you love each other. People should watch how you loved being touched like that.

Ingrid finally reached her fingers at the beginning of your genitals through your shorts, gradually touching them with just her index finger.

Your body was sensitive, any touch was enough to make you grunt or arch. The norwegian's fingerprint did not rub, but slid, circularly.

Even though the fabric of the shorts is thick enough to not feel the outside touch, Engen had the capacity to do so.

It was the wet lips touching your skin and marking it, it was the slightest touch of the long finger in the region of your genitals; Ingrid wasn't even inside you and your breathing was so heavy.

Your lungs inflated and deflated as quickly as a marathon runner's, a strong struggle between containing the slightest groans and finding breath for the situation.

❝ Do you want me to stop? ❞ Engen murmured between her lips glued to your skin, slowly pulling away and resting her eyes on your face. ❝ We can do this at home. ❞

Despite all this attitude, Ingrid was a person with a strong personality, always putting your well-being first.

The norwegian's fingers, too. They stopped, but without leaving their place.

You took a second breath before confirming your answer. You shook your head negative, finally giving your answer.

❝ Please, no. ❞ Your lips wet with your own drool, hardly satiated because you were busier moaning.

Your body began to release drops of sweat, your sly eyes looked at Engen; carrying the stupid horny smile.

Her left hand slid down to the south of your thighs, pressing your fingers against the norwegian's wrist. You slowly guided her delicate hand into your shorts, unzipped.

Therefore, the midfielder's fingers were a tissue away from her clitoris. Your gaze stared into the greenish optical orbs, somewhat perplexed by his sudden attitude.

❝ Finish what you started. ❞ You brought your lips close to your girlfriend's ear area, enough to whisper.

You freed her wrist, intending to give Engen full consent to touch your body however she wanted. Your arms rose and wrapped around the player's neck.

Slowly, Ingrid wet her own fingers with her lips, lubricating them. The ring finger started the touching, even over the panties.

It was slow, but well done. The midfielder had a lot of experience when it came to creating elation in you.

The circular movements were enough to make you grunt and muffle the sounds on Engen's skin, indirectly begging her to do more and more.

Within seconds, the only thing you could feel was Ingrid's finger invade your clitoris, especially when you noticed your panties being dragged to the side.

Exposed to her and everything, your eyes refused to look at anything other than the cabin door. You had many missions: not to moan so loud, not to grunt and not to make any rough movements.

After all, you were one step away from being in public.

Ingrid's ring and middle fingers did not penetrate, but rubbed against your warm vaginal skin. From side to side, top to bottom.

And that was enough to make you act like she had two fingers inside you. It wasn't a lie when it was said that your skin is sensitive.

With each second it increased in intensity like a sports car starting up, Ingrid moved her fingers so well that you even wondered if that was the woman you knew.

Your face was buried in the midfielder's collarbone, muffling short, sly moans that left your lips.

❝ Damn, Ingrid. ❞ Even though you were busy blocking out the sounds coming out of you, there was still space to murmur your loved one's name.

Engen acted concentrated, rubbing her fingers on you, which inch by inch entered you. But also, the woman's cold lips touched your skin.

Body arched towards your girlfriend, fingers leading towards the long black strands of her. You bit your own lips with each long finger you received, stopping the moans from coming out.

Slowly, you could feel the sweat dripping down your entire body, especially on the inside of your thighs. A sweat so powerful that it was enough to slide.

The heat inside the dressing room was so intense that the mirror fogged up every minute, perhaps due to the control over your bodies.

❝ Relax. ❞ Engen murmured so low that it was difficult to decipher, even close to your ear.

You didn't know what to say and didn't even know what to think: you didn't know whether to moan the norwegian's name, order her to stop due to the tension or beg for more.

And down there, it was impossible to describe what was happening. Ingrid wrapped her fingers around it, took it out and put it back in several times and always increased the intensity as if she knew exactly what she was playing with.

Engen played with your body as if she knew every detail and secret of yours.

❝ Fuck. ❞ You repeated this once, twice, three times, almost increasing your intonation. Your mind surrendered to Engen, surrendering so much that you even forgot you were in public.

Your very long arms pressed more and more around the taller woman's neck, mainly as a bridge to sink your face even further into her neck.

The norwegian brought her lips back to your neck, carefully kissing your skin, but also biting it.

On your private part and now on your neck? This was the perfect combo, but at the same time crazy. It was at that moment that you were sure you were crazy about Ingrid Engen.

But you were so focused on praising her and moaning the norwegian's name that you completely forgot you were in public.

Especially on a Saturday night, where people go out to buy clothes and try them on. Which meant your time was limited.

At that moment, even though you were mentally occupied with Engen's face and fingers, it was very noticeable steps meters away heading towards you.

Your eyebrows arched, immediately pulling the player's hand away; even though she had noticed it too, since she had stopped moving her fingers.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

❝ Men hva i helvete. ❞ (what the fuck.) Ingrid murmured so swiftly that it didn't even sound norwegian. The woman's body reacted so quickly by moving towards the armchair, that Engen seemed experienced in being caught in act.

And you were no different. The only problem is that you only had the opportunity to stare at the door, praying that whoever opened it wouldn't notice anything.

The footsteps approached and stopped, knocking twice on the door and asking permission to open it just a crack.

❝ Yes? ❞ You responded to the touches with a fragile intonation, as you were trying to catch your breath.

❝ Sorry to interrupt, but I noticed that you've been in there for almost twenty-five minutes. ❞ A female voice came from outside. ❝ Is everything ok? ❞

You took a while to respond, as you were more concentrated and having difficulty taking off your shorts due to the sweat caused.

❝ Yes, everything fine. I am leaving soon! I just need... ❞ Your eyes fell on Engen, who carried a stupid smile of someone who was clearly holding back a laugh. ❝ ...Fold the clothes I wore. ❞

❝ No need, just leave the ones you won't use on the counter after you leave. ❞ The door gap has closed. ❝ Once again, sorry for the inconvenience. ❞

An uncomfortable silence remained inside the cabin, you wiped off the little sweat that remained on your own neck.

❝ I knew this would happen! ❞ You finally said something, looking at Ingrid.

❝ If you had known it was going to happen, you wouldn't have accepted it, miss moans loudly. ❞ Engen got back at you, expressing short laughs that were definitely meant to stress you out.

❝ But I— ❞

She got up and walked towards the door, carrying the other shorts you had already worn. ❝ Can we finish at home? ❞ At this point, Ingrid was making fun of you.

❝ ...Fuck you. ❞ That was the only thing you said before pushing the Norwegian; which barely moved. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment.

You put on your own pants, soon carrying the shorts you were previously wearing between your fingers. Now, you were forced to buy it.

❝ We will never do this again, you idiot. ❞

[randomprose]

now posted on AO3!

Mo Guan Shan is sitting on the kitchen island eating a sandwich when He Cheng walks in. 

He looks up from scrolling through his phone, looking a little startled. 

“Mo Guan Shan,” He Cheng acknowledges with a nod before heading to the fridge. 

“Uh. Hey, boss."

“Where’s He Tian?"

“Still sleepin’,” he shrugs. “Got bored an’ hungry waitin’ for him to wake up.”

He Cheng just hums. His brother has always been one to sleep in late even as a child. 

“Have you eaten?” Mo Guan Shan asks, a hand scratching the back of his neck. He looks awkward standing in He Cheng’s kitchen — rarely used, all stainless steel, and state of the art — yet strangely comfortable behind the counter near the stoves. At least before He Cheng came in. This is the most relaxed He Cheng has ever seen him in his house over the years.

He mulls the question over, probably blurted out on impulse. He’s really only here to get a bottle of water. 

“I've had coffee”, was what he said after awhile. He can’t quite remember what time that was. Some time between the early hours of a new day and before the crack of dawn.  

Mo Guan Shan frowns, brows knitted together. The kid is very expressive, He Cheng observes. Easy to draw reaction from. He can see why He Tian loses his shit pushing this kid’s buttons.

“That’s not exactly food.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” Never had the stomach for it. Just never made sense for him to eat so early in the morning.

“Er. It’s past noon, boss,” Mo Guan Shan somehow feels the need to remind him. He Cheng just stares at him. “Technically it’s lunchtime bordering on…mid-afternoon snack?”

It dawns on He Cheng that, given his answer, this kid wants him to eat something. Mo Guan Shan either has certain manners drilled into him — He Cheng caught him eating when he entered the kitchen so he felt the need to offer him something as well — or he has an inane need to take care of people. Just like He Tian. 

He Cheng supposes that’s a good thing, if a bit of a soft touch — something that has no room in the world he and He Tian live in but is nonetheless welcomed and desired by He Cheng for his brother. He Tian could’ve done so much worse. At least He Cheng knows his brother is eating and taken care of. He swears that kid never knows how to look after himself. 

“If you insist,” He Cheng allows and sits on a stool at the kitchen counter. 

Mo Guan Shan visibly relaxes. Like he’s relieved He Cheng agreed he could cook for him. If he hadn’t ran a thorough background on him he’d think he’s going to try and poison him. Except the kid is terrible at hiding his expressions and controlling his body language and He Cheng has known him since he was in middle school.

“Alright. So, uh, what are you hungry for?”

He Cheng isn’t really hungry for anything, but he does acknowledge that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday and this will only be his first meal of the day. Still, he doesn’t think he can stomach a full meal right now. 

“Just eggs will do.”

“Okay,” Mo Guan Shan nods. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled,” is all he says. No mention of how he likes it cooked, no preference for seasoning, no specifications of any kind. He Cheng doesn’t really care as long as it's edible and won’t upset his stomach. 

Mo Guan Shan gets to work in silence. He Cheng watches him move and is not at all surprised that he knows his way around, knows where everything is. Qiu mentioned the kid is good in the kitchen, more than a decent cook, and is not above admitting that he enjoys his food despite the disaster that occured the one and only time the kids came over his place and had Mo Guan Shan made them dinner. He Cheng knows this, too. He knows that the kid is apprenticing in a family restaurant and is saving up to go to culinary school. He’s had to drop by He Tian’s place occasionally and was pleasantly surprised that his brother isn’t just subsisting on take-outs if at all.  

But it’s just eggs and He Cheng isn’t really expecting anything. Eggs are just eggs after all.

After just about twenty minutes, Mo Guan Shan puts down a plate of the fluffiest looking scrambled eggs He Cheng has ever been served garnished with spring onions and what seem to be crushed potato chips. He serves it with a glass of orange juice on the side and the whole ensemble looks like it’s been lifted out of a lifestyle cooking magazine. 

He Cheng takes a forkful and lets out a low pleased sound at the back of his throat.

"Good?" Mo Guan Shan asks, a corner of his lips quirked up in quiet satisfaction the way a cook is when they know someone enjoys their food.

"It is." He Cheng maintains that eggs are still just eggs but this really is good. Qiu’s not exaggerating then. 

The eggs are light and cooked just right, lightly seasoned with the melted cheese adding another layer of flavor, and the potato chips give it a good crunch. He’s never even thought of potato chips as anything other than junk food.

"Yeah. Figured you and Tian like your scrambled eggs the same." Mo Guan Shan comments as he sits back down to finish his sandwich. "First time I made it he looked so pissed even though he couldn't stop shovelling eggs in his mouth. Thought he might've hated it and was just eating it to, I don’t know, not hurt my feelings or some shit, but then I heard him curse you under his breath and ask for seconds."

A thought that comes to He Cheng: He Tian eats breakfast and likes his eggs scrambled just like him.

“He hates it, but he's really alike you in a lot of ways, you know.”

Well, of course he is, He Cheng agrees. He practically raised that kid. He Tian’s bound to pick up some of He Cheng’s mannerisms and preferences for certain things whether he likes it or not.

“Coffee? Brewed a new batch.”

“Please.”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Just black, thanks.”

“You sure?" Mo Guan Shan asks like he doesn't believe him. 

“I like it as it is.” 

“Huh,” Mo Guan Shan sounds out before shrugging and pouring out two mugs.

This prompts He Cheng to ask, "Does Tian-di not take his coffee black then?"

It occurs to him that he doesn’t know his brother at all. Maybe there was a time that he did, when He Tian was small and only had him, but He Cheng doesn’t claim that he knows his brother beyond his childhood days. While He Tian seems to come to him more and more these days, their relationship is still rather estranged and not at all conventional, however that may be. 

All He Cheng knows of He Tian is that his brother is of the good sort and that’s enough for him. 

He Tian cares for his friends and cares for Mo Guan Shan in ways He Cheng will probably never understand. He’s better than He Cheng in a lot of ways that matter, more human perhaps, which suits him just fine. He never wanted He Tian to be someone their family has morphed and twisted to suit their needs and use as see fit. He never wanted He Tian to be like him. 

And so He Cheng finds himself indulging in wanting to know the little things that make up his brother. Like how he likes his eggs and how he drinks his coffee.

“He does but I know he hates it. Everytime he drinks it he makes a face like it's poison.” Mo Guan Shan shrugs as he sits down across from him. He hands He Cheng one of the mugs and nurses one himself. “I don't know why he insists on drinking it this way.” 

He Cheng just hums, breathing in the aroma of the coffee, not unaware of the way Mo Guan Shan is pointedly looking at him.

“Tian-di probably just can’t be bothered to have it otherwise.”

“Nah. He probably just thinks it makes him all mature and tough. As if cream and sugar makes you weak or some shit.”

Just before they both move to take a sip from their mugs, He Cheng mutters “Idiot” under his breath at the same time Mo Guan Shan scoffs it. They stop and couldn’t help to smirk at their consensus.

It’s good to know someone else can see through his brother’s bullshit.

He Cheng notes that Mo Guan Shan takes his coffee black. Mo Guan Shan just shrugs when he points this out. 

“I like the bitter taste. It’s what keeps you awake,” he says before taking another sip. “And you taste the flavor of the beans better without the cover up of milk or sweetener.”

A fair assessment. He Cheng will drink to that.

For a while, they sat in silence as they finish their meals. Then Mo Guan Shan’s phone lights up. He drains the last of his coffee as he swipes at the screen. It seems a message has popped up because he picks it up and types something back. He Cheng surmises it’s probably He Tian, just woken up, asking where Mo Guan Shan is. 

"Refill?" Mo Guan Shan offers, walking back to where the coffee pot is.

"No, thank you.”

Mo Guan Shan refills his cup and adds three spoons of cream and two sugar cubes. He Tian enters the kitchen with a jaw cracking yawn just as Mo Guan Shan is back on his seat and finished stirring. His brother takes the seat beside the redhead across from him and He Cheing watches the latter push the mug at He Tian’s direction. The cup is only three-quarts full. 

“I’m done. Finish this.”

“You always do this. Why bother pouring a full cup if you’re not gonna drink even half of it?” He Tian quips but takes the mug anyway. 

He Cheng notes his brother doesn’t make a face after the first sip. He Tian even licks at his upper lip and a corner of his mouth is quirked up. 

“What’s for breakfast?”

“It’s way past noon.”

“It’s my first meal of the day. What’s for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs,” He Cheng answers before Mo Guan Shan could and delights at the face his brother makes when he sees what’s on his plate and realizes who made it.

‘What the…’ He Tian mouths as he narrows his eyes at what remains of He Cheng’s meal.

“You know what, I actually don’t want scrambled eggs. I want—”

“Tough shit. I’m already making them and you’re gonna eat it when it’s done.”

He Tian makes a low whining displeased sound but nonetheless doesn’t protest. “Throw in some bacon.”

“Alright.”

He Tian doesn’t offer to help beyond getting the pack of bacon from the fridge, handing it to Mo Guan Shan before returning to his seat. Like it’s routine. Like there’s an unspoken agreement that Mo Guan Shan cooks and He Tian stays out of his way. And He Cheng gathers he’s probably been shooed away and out of the kitchen when the other is at work. He Cheng can’t imagine his brother even knows how to operate a stove — just another thing they have in common by virtue of being born to money. 

He Tian's attention is solely on Mo Guan Shan. His back is to He Cheng, leaning against the counter as he talks to the redhead. He asks if he slept well, what he wants to do today, if there’s somewhere he wants to go to, if he wants anything particular for dinner later. Mo Guan Shan makes a comment that makes He Tian laugh but goes over He Cheng's head and he figures it must be an inside joke between them. 

There’s a kind of ease to it, the flow of their banter, the way they move around each other. He Tian certainly seems comfortable and at ease, the line of his back relaxed and lacking the usual tenseness of someone always ready to go on either the offense or defense. 

Mo Guan Shan mirrors the same ease as he puts down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast for He Tian, who turns his head to plant a kiss on his cheek in thanks. 

The whole thing makes He Cheng feel like a fucking interloper in his own goddamn kitchen. 

He Cheng looks at his brother with his own plate of scrambled eggs and Mo Guan Shan's mug of coffee, the one with cream and sugar he said he couldn't finish so He Tian would take it, and thinks it's the best life he could have ever hoped for him. 

“Wash the dishes when you're done,” Mo Guan Shan says as he scrolls through his phone.

He Tian looks at the sink and makes a face at the pan and other things Mo Guan Shan used to cook.

“Man, do I have to? This isn’t even my house. And there are maids for a reason.”

“Tch. Spoiled brat.” Mo Guan Shan lightly pinches a chewing He Tian’s cheek, bulging with food. “Exactly. This isn’t your house. You use them, you clean them.”

“Cheng ate, too,” he nods to where He Cheng is finishing up the last of his meal. “Why don’t you make him do his dishes?” he says with a smirk, thinking he’s on to something.

“He’s letting the four of us stay for the summer.” Mo Guan Shan takes He Cheng’s plate and the empty glass of juice when he sees he’s done and soaks them in the sink. “Here. In this house that he owns. In an island that is his. For free.” He sends He Tian a look that says, ‘need I say more?’.

“What are you talking about? I’m paying for our stay here you know.”

“Oh, really? With what? Sure as hell haven’t seen you so much as touch your wallet since we got on the boat.”

“My sanity.”

Mo Guan Shan’s hand flexes and for a moment, He Cheng thinks his brother is gonna be hit over the head with the frying pan. 

“Just,” the word is sighed through gritted teeth, “do the damn dishes. It’s not that hard.”

“Why don’t you do them then?”

“I already cooked, asshole. I ain't washin’ the dishes. 'sides, you're the last to finish eatin’ so you get to clean up. Them’s the rules.”

“Fine, but I'm only gonna wash mine,” He Tian declares, viciously biting on a chunk of toast.

“It's one plate and a mug, Tian,” Mo Guan Shan sighs sounding like he’s had this exact conversation a thousand times. “Don't be a little bitch and wash them all. Don't waste soap.”

“Baby, look around. We can afford the waste.”

Mo Guan Shan levels him a look which He Tian stares right back as he continues to chew. It goes on for maybe a minute or two. A standoff with just their eyes, willing the other to back down first. 

He Cheng doesn’t quite know what’s going on between the stare down and the silence, but He Tian is the first to look away with a groan. The one to concede first, apparently.

“Uuughhh! Fine! Fuck it! Fine! I'll do the damn dishes.”

“Yeah, as you should,” Mo Guan Shan quips looking satisfied with his victory. He Cheng marvels at how easy it is for him when getting He Tian to do anything, even if it's for his own good, has always been like pulling teeth. “I’m gonna go call my mom. There's more coffee in the pot. Creamer ran out, but there's milk in the fridge.”

“You know I only take my coffee black.”

Mo Guan Shan watches with a flat expression as He Tian sips ‘his’ coffee with cream and sugar. He catches He Cheng's eyes and shoots him a look that says, ‘are you seeing this shit?’ which He Tian doesn’t catch.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He doesn’t bother contesting. “There’s more toast in the bread box.”

“Buttered?”

“Butter it yourself, idiot,” Mo Guan Shan shoots back making a face at him. 

“Can’t even do that simple thing for me, babe? Really starting to doubt this relationship right now.”

“Good. You shouldn’t get too complacent anyway, dick head.” He hops out of his seat and swats at He Tian’s grabby hands. “Do the damn dishes or I swear to god you won’t have anything to doubt anymore.” 

He Cheng watches the exchange and feels like he’s in a sitcom. He thinks about how his initial plan to get a bottle of water has led to him being caught between his brother and his boyfriend play fighting, flirting, and the domesticity of it all. He thinks about asking Mo Guan Shan how he does that whole thing where he just stares at He Tian and makes him yield but figures it would only work if you're Mo Guan Shan. 

He remembers a time when He Tian lowered his pride. Impulsive, insolent, and desperate, he came crawling back to He Cheng and was even willing to go as far as becoming something he hates. All for the sake of some boy, some school friend, some little pet project that he picked up because he was bored that morphed into something else, something more.

Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care for another. He made He Tian care so much he was willing to make himself into a monster for Mo Guan Shan, but stopped him just in time from going the deep end and even made him more human. Hell, Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care about himself. And for all that, He Cheng is grateful.

"Thanks," he says as much and means more than just the best scrambled eggs he's had in a while, but Mo Guan Shan would never know it. "You really didn't have to." 

"Huh. Oh, uh, sure.” It catches Mo Guan Shan off-guard, halting him from leaving the kitchen. He looks a little sheepish as he says, “It's nothing, really. It's just…it’s just eggs."

He Cheng just hums and nods at him once in dismissal. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” He Tian shouts after Mo Guan Shan, who’s already rounded the corner and only shouts back, “Dishes!”

He Tian scowls but there’s no real heat in it. He even asks He Cheng if he wants the rest of the coffee, which he declines, when he stood up to get more toast before tucking back into his eggs.

He Cheng sees that He Tian is happy, thinks Mo Guan Shan brings out all the best in him, and hopes to all the gods he doesn't believe in that his brother don't ever fuck this one up. 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until He Tian asks, “What?” around a mouthful of toast. 

“Nothing,” He Cheng says as he finishes his coffee, and as he stands up he says, “Make sure you bring him along everytime you plan to come over. Otherwise, don’t come at all.” And just to spite him, he slides his empty mug closer to He Tian. “And make sure you do the damn dishes.”

He gets the desired effect. The glare his brother sent him is acrid and his next words make He Cheng want to laugh.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

“I didn’t. Mo Guan Shan did.”

“Whatever. Shut the fuck up.”

He Cheng just smirks and doesn’t hit him for his impertinence if only because He Tian grumbling, “I was gonna do them anyway” has already made his day.

Later, as He Cheng sits on his desk looking over his schedule, he sees that he has an appointment with their legal team. A thought strikes him and he scribbles a curt note at the margins and tells his secretary to summon the family lawyers too.

He might as well update the family registry.

--

edit: now posted on AO3! glad you guys like this piece. please leave kudos and comments there as well. thank you! :)

[raineydays411]

My Fathers Daughter pt8

The Dinner

summary: It's finally time for the dinner you've been dreading since your arrival, awesome. At least you get to know some of the bat family better than before

Also I forgot if I put the ages for these characters if I did and anyone could tell me that would be awesome.

When you first arrived to Gotham, you weren't really sure what to think.

Like yeah, you knew it was gonna suck cause you were moving in with the woman who deserted you and your father, causing you to grow up faster than you were meant to and giving you trust issues.

And sure, Gotham seems to have some sort of disaster literally every single day of the week.

But at this point, you really would rather chance it with the clown or whatever than sit through this awkward ass dinner.

"ahem"

Everyone eyes shoot to Bruce, who cleared his throat, breaking the awkward silence everyone was eating in.

"Y/n" He starts, causing you to groan internally. You were tired of being in the spotlight, especially when you knew half of this family doesn't fuck with you .

"I know I've said this before, but I know how hard sudden life changes like this are. If there's anything you need to be comfortable please let me know. This is your home now too."

You smile slightly, but before you could say anything Damian interrupts you

"Tch, father you say that as if she's a part of this family. We all know shes not."

"Damian, enough." Christine says sternly, " You've been difficult the whole day. Leave your sister alone."

"Oh please Mother, she's no blood of mine nor yours" he says absent minded

This was your chance.

"Well she actually pushed me out so..." You say taking a sip of your drink. You relished in the reactions from around the table

Jason snorted so hard his drink spilled

Dick looked disgusted and amused at the same time.

Tim looked disgusted but thats cause Jasons snort water managed to splash him from across the table. But the best reaction was from Damian and Cass. They just looked straight up angry.

Angry at the thought of their mother pushing you our of her cooch. Which was the most hilarious thing to you.

"How dare you speak about our mother like that? Have you no respect?"

"Dude, I'm gonna be honest I cannot take you seriously while you talk like an Asgardian. Get with the century Tiny Tim."

Another snort comes from Jason, " You know what kid, you're alright with me"

"I'm nineteen." You deadpan

"You look like you're twelve" Jason snarks

You pause for a bit before saying, "I'll tell you what you look like but you won't like it."

"Okay children, enough." Christine says, " Y/n, how do you like the room?"

"It's... very Addams family chic." You say, not really trying to be rude, " But if I'm being honest it's gonna take some getting used to."

"Well, you have free reign to decorate it anyway you'd like." Christine says, " In fact, we can make a day out of it!"

You physically have to stop yourself from cringing, " Um, yeah.. that sounds interesting, Or i can just order everything off amazon, no hassle."

" Oh it's no bother, it would give us some time to catch up" Christine says excitedly, " Oh we can make it a girls day, you and me!"

You feel someone glaring daggers into your head, as you turn you make eye contact with Cass.

Oh great, another Damian.

"Um.." You were never good in uncomfortable situations. Usually you would signal to your dad or Pepper and they'd find a way to get you out of it.

Even if you were good at navigating through uncomfortable situations, you doubt that anyone would know that to do in these circumstances.

"I mean some of the stuff I can only get online anyways so.." You say awkwardly.

You see Christine deflate and then more glares from the peanut gallery. Honestly its starting to get old.

" You know if you two keep glaring at me, your face will get stuck like that. " You say sarcastically, " Honestly doesn't it hurt to have such a sour face all the time? You're gonna get some crazy frown lines"

But before either Damian or Cass could respond, Bruce stood with a " Okay then! Y/n, how about you take my credit card and get whatever you need online, then your mother will take you AND Cass shopping"

Oh, this was a rich dads way of saying shut up.

"Great a whole day with Wednesday and Morticia." you mutter as Alfred takes your barely touched plate, " Thanks Lurch."

Alfred looks semi amused at the comparison. At least he appreciates your wit.

"Hey" A voice calls to catch your attention, it was Jason.

"I'll take you to your bedroom while Alfred cleans up, don't need you getting lost."

You look at him suspiciously, but take his offer wanting to be alone.

"If you kill me, there's gonna be a lot of pissed off superhero's on your ass." You say following him out of the room.

"Trust me princess, I'm not the one you have to worry about killing you." Jason scoffs.

"Yeah the little ones look like they might stab me in the shower." You say with a wince, " What did i do to them anyway?"

" Trust me its not you." Jason says, " They are the the easiest to be around, there's a wall there." He gestures to his heart.

"Ah"

"But if I'm being honest, finding out about you has been a shock to all of us." He says," I honestly thought Ma couldn't have kids."

You snot cruelly, " Yeah well finding out about all of you hasn't been easy for me either."

"I bet. You know, most of us haven't had much luck with mothers or families. That's why we're here."

"I have a family. A pretty good one too."

"I'm just saying I understand why you'd be angry. I was for a long time. I think sometimes I still am." Jason says before stopping, " Well here we are. If you tell anyone I told you that I'll deny it and they'll believe me."

"Thanks." You simply say, " It's nice to not hate one person that lives here."

And with that you go into the your room and close the door.

[girls-alias]

Tattoo - Dean Winchester

Title: Tattoo - Dean Winchester Words: 2,305 Relations: Dean Winchester X reader. TW: Strong language, slight nudity, sexual hinting.

[Why does the right gif look like it's reacting to the first 😂]

I sighed slamming the anti-possession tattoo design on the artist's table. "This is what I want," I explained simply. The artist looked it over once, a quick glance before scoffing and shaking his head. I sucked my teeth, annoyed instantly by his reaction.

"I'm not doing that, it's demon shit," He slid the design off the table, it falling slowly onto the floor. I glared at him knowing for a fact I would not be the one to pick that up.

"It's actually the opposite it's to protect me from demon shit. So, either pick up the design and get started or pick up the design and wish me a great day," I instructed, my tone forceful as I rested my hands on the table between us. He gave me his full attention. "Either way, you're picking it up," I added. He scoffed looking at me like I was stupid.

"Bitch, if you-" He didn't have time to finish his sentence as I slammed his head into the table. He jumped backwards, holding his busted nose. Looking at me terrified. I was angry beyond reproach.

"Call me a bitch again and I'll pull your teeth out so the next time you say it, it's sounds like your saying bench," I threatened. "Get up. Walk around this table. Pick it up." I said simply, emphasising my anger as I maintained eye contact. He hesitated to get up, cowering as he got closer to me. I stared him down even though he was taller than me, he bent down, using one knee to get low as he grabbed the design. He went to stand but I grabbed the shoulder of his shirt, stopping him from standing but looking up at me scared. I smirked. "Wasn't so hard, was it?" I asked menacingly with a smirk. He shook his head slowly like he was afraid to upset me. I smirked wider. "Now wish me a great day," I instructed, looking at him expectantly.

"I hope you have a really great day, sorry I couldn't help," He quickly spoke. I smiled politely, innocently.

"Thanks, you too," I added cheerfully before grabbing my design and walking out.

I had gone to 5 different tattoo studios, all getting denied and I was growing impatient and reckless. My anger rose before a plan formed in my mind. I smirked knowing it was genius.

Dean's POV:

Y/N had been gone all day. I know she was getting her tattoo but it shouldn't be this long. She's been gone since I woke up till now, I rechecked my watch growing anxious. I should have gone with her. I know she didn't want me to because 'she's an independent woman who doesn't need a man to hold her hand' or at least that's what she tells me every time I suggest protection on a hunt or company for certain things. She is the most stubborn woman I know, and I've met plenty of stubborn women. She only decided to stay at the bunker with us for a few weeks because she wanted a break from motels.

"Will you stop tapping your foot?" Sam asked annoyed as he looked up from his book.

"Where is she? She should have been back hours ago," I rambled, anxiously checking my watch again. 9PM. Where is she? I wonder if she was snatched? Is she okay?

"Dean, will you calm down? She's probably just gotten distracted." He tried but I scoffed.

"What if she's been abducted and we're just sat here?" I asked but Sam laughed, holding his finger in the book to keep his place as he lowered it to give me his full attention.

"We are talking about the same Y/N, right? She's been abducted, starved for months, tortured and still escaped. We did nothing to help, she just called us for a ride like nothing happened," He explained but I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, but that was before she moved in," I tried but Sam looked at me confused.

"She hasn't moved it, she wanted a break and came here. You must be head over heels in love if you think she's staying," He chuckled, going back to his book but noticing my silence. I wanted to deny it but my mouth didn't work. He looked up from the book, studying me a second before slamming the book down not caring about keeping the page anymore. "You're in love with Y/N?!" He practically shouted but I rolled my eyes, getting up to leave. He didn't take the hint that I was leaving because of him so followed me. "I knew you wanted to fuck her but I didn't realise you were in love," He continued. I groaned, walking down the hall aimlessly.

"I'm not in love with her," I tried but even I could tell my tone showed how bad I was lying.

"You are, oh my God. You have to tell her before she leaves." He cheered but I rolled my eyes. I stopped in my tracks, facing him looking annoyed.

"She tells us every day that she doesn't need a man to hold her hand, she'd laugh in my face if I told her," I sighed, finally giving in because this topic has been clouding my judgment for months. Ever since she wore a dress to a hunt and still looked badass I knew I wanted more than sex, when Lucifer himself threatened her and she practically scared him off I knew it was love. Ever since I have grown to love her more, even small things I wouldn't normally notice became my fixation. Like how she mouths the words when she reads slightly or bites down on her nail when she's thinking. All of it made me fall deeper in love with her. Yet she shows no interest in me.

"She doesn't need a man to hold her hand but she might want one," Sam tried but I scoffed.

"We've known her for over a year, I've never once seen her hint at even sex never mind a relationship," I explained. Sam went to dismiss my comment but stopped to look at me confused. He heard it too. I turned around, there's something here. It sounded like something metal clinking against marble. Confused I walked down the hall. Maybe she's back, hopefully, she didn't hear our conversation.

I approached Y/N's door as Sam stood close behind me, I pushed the door open. I froze as I noticed Y/N on her knees in front of the fire shirtless. She had a maroon bra on and hadn't noticed us. I watched mesmerised and perplexed by what she was doing. My jaw dropped as she pulled an iron stake from the fire and pressed it to her chest over her heart. I wanted to rush in and stop her but I was stunned as rather than scream she dropped her head back and groaned. It was borderline pornographic and would definitely infect my mind many times in the future. Sam grabbed my shoulder but didn't move, it pulled me back to reality, I glanced at him seeing his jaw drop open and concern written all over his face. I looked back at her, eyes wide as she moaned again, pushing the stake a little harder before pulling it away. My mouth dried as I watched the scene.

"I love you," She looked up at us, completely unfazed. You wouldn't think she branded herself just seconds before. She looked at me confused and it hit me that I said it out loud. She put the stake down with a smile, chuckling softly before she stood up, not bothered by her shirtless figure as she faced me. I knew Sam would be looking away but my eyes wouldn't let me. My God!

"Good to know," She said slightly confused. I sighed realising she probably thinks I'm a creep. I mean, I am. She's standing shirtless, in a maroon bra but brand new burn above her heart I should be concerned about but I can't take my eyes off her chest. My God. I've never been a tits man but for her, I'm an everything man.

"What did you do?" Sam asked. I finally pulled my eyes away as I glanced at him, he turned away to look up the hall. He has more willpower than I do.

"No one would give me the tattoo so I branded myself," She explained as if it was no big deal. I looked at her concerned, slightly worried and turned on. I fall deeper in love.

"Why wouldn't you just go somewhere else?" Sam asked but she rolled her eyes and walked away to grab a cardigan, tying it around herself loosely so the fabric didn't touch her burn but covered herself. I frowned slightly. I finally looked at the burn. I rushed forward moving the cardigan slowly to see it fully.

"What the fuck, you actually did it," I exclaimed as I looked at the red skin surrounding the black burn. A perfect print of the anti-possession tattoo that matched Sam and I's.

"Well, yeah," She chuckled as if it were obvious. We saw her do it, I wouldn't doubt she would have if she'd told me beforehand but anyone else would be too scared. Not Y/N, not perfect Y/N. Sam followed me in, looking at it closely. We shared a look before I stepped back. She laughed as she shrugged. "It's not a big deal," She shrugged moving away to grab her glass from the top of the drawers. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"Did it not hurt?" I asked, my concern showing in my tone. She chuckled.

"I've felt worse," She shrugged taking a sip of her drink. God, I really do love her.

"I'm going to get the first aid kit. No more branding while I'm gone," Sam warned but she chuckled as he walked out.

"Aw, but I had a tramp stamp made too," She joked but looked at me with an innocent smile. "I actually have another one if you want to do it for me?" She asked but I looked at her like she was crazy. She rolled her eyes, moving to kneel in front of the fire again.

"What? No!" I exclaimed, grabbing her shoulder to try and move her away.

"Ow," She exclaimed, I quickly pulled my hands away, thinking I pressed on her burn. I knew I fell for her trick when she quickly grabbed another stake that was heating in the fire, pulled the tie on her cardigan and pushed it into her skin above her right hip. I gasped, readying for her to scream but she groaned again. Standing above her and looking down on the scene only made it hotter. My God. I turned away knowing I would soon be erect if I didn't try to clear my mind.

"What are you doing?" Sam exclaimed from the door, quickly rushing in, he grabbed the stake, burning his hand slightly as he dropped it to the floor. She rolled her eyes with a theatrical groan.

"You're so boring, Dean didn't mind," She played but I quickly protested.

"I tried to stop her," I held my hands up in defence as Sam looked at me shocked. Sam shook his head, turning his eyes to the first aid kit he brought in with him. Y/N seemed to smirk.

"I can patch myself up," She groaned but Sam shook his head, avoiding looking at her.

"No, I'm putting my foot down." He insisted. I watched, amazed he stood up to her. I wouldn't even do that even if I had a death wish.

"You can't even look at me," She chuckled. Sam looked her in the eyes for a second before looking away not wanting to gawk at her. She laughed, sitting back so she could move her legs from under her.

"I'll do it," I chimed in. I regret it instantly. She looked at me, her eyebrows showing she was shocked but her clenched jaw and eyes told me she wasn't happy. I shouldn't have said anything, she'll kill me and I'd thank her while she did it. She dominates me with just eye contact how am I going to put my foot down to her?

I took Sam's place in front of her, I avoided her eyes as I knew if I looked into them I would lose the nerve. Sam walked out as she took the cardigan off. I used all my focus to look at the branding and not her boobs. I saw her smirking in my peripheral vision.

"So, you love me?" She asked, teasing in her tone. I gulped. I need to grow a backbone, she has too much control over me. Now that I'm putting my foot down to her, it's the perfect time.

"So what if I do?" I asked, focusing on her anti-possession brand as I began cleaning it. She didn't even flinch when the alcohol touched her burns, she just moaned. I felt my blood rushing to where I didn't want it. I focused on my actions hoping I had enough control to get through this.

"I just think that's a weird thing to say after watching someone brand themself," She commented with a slight shrug. I glanced at her lips as she bit down. My breath hitched, and I fixed my eyes on the brand.

"Maybe that's my kink," I tempted but she smirked.

"It is now," She smirked. I gulped, finally looking at her face to see she was looking flirtatious. A look I had never seen her make before. I smirked.

"To rights," I confirmed. She smiled as she rested back on her hands letting me clean her without argument. This was the best thing that could have happened!!!!

Masterlist

[wishluc]

Hello! May I request yandere Adeuce duo who knows reader trust them the most among the other students and will believe everything they say.

Because why would they lie to you? They’ve been through life and death together with all of this overblot. So of course you trust them!

Adeuce manipulating reader into rejecting all of the dorm leaders after finding out their romantic feelings for the prefect.

They don’t want to lose their best friend. But hey! If you want to date so badly, you have two candidate right in front of you!

Thank you and have a great day!<3

I have a soft spot for Adeuce haha. Sticking to only Malleus instead of all the dorm leaders ♡

✧ CW: yandere characters, manipulation, jealousy

An awkward silence has been hanging over your head since bumping into Malleus earlier, with Ace and Deuce being uncharacteristically pensive. The two of them have been sharing unreadable looks, but haven't said a single word to you. You want to break the growing tension with a clumsy joke to snap them out of their thoughts or change the subject into something lighthearted, but deep down you really don't want to face their line of questions about Malleus.

But when the three of you finally find some space to yourself, the dam breaks and the questions come gushing out.

"You're seriously friends with that guy? Malleus Draconia, of all people?!"

You stare at the scuffed tip of your shoe, pretending like Ace's intense reaction hardly bothered you.

"Yes?" You lift your head, eyes flitting between Ace's prominent scowl and Deuce's startled gaze, "Why's that so surprising?"

"He's known for being pretty unapproachable, right?" Deuce awkwardly chimes in, "It's just strange that you managed to get close to him."

"I didn't really know who he was when we first met," you admit, and you have to force yourself not to shrink away under Ace's sharp glare, "and it doesn't change anything for me, anyway. He's a really nice person to be around, even if he does take some getting used to."

"How'd you even meet him? I don't think I've ever caught a glimpse of him around all this time," Ace asks, his voice a little calmer now, "do you see him often?"

"He was walking around Ramshackle one night, and we just started talking about magic and some other things. He didn't even tell me his name," you explain, "I really had no clue that it was him. Besides, he doesn't come by very regularly, maybe about once a month...? I'm not sure."

"So he loiters around Ramshackle at night, and didn't tell you his name at all, right? That just sounds really creepy," Ace says, suspicion clear in his tone, "And, I mean, if you two are friends, or close enough for him to be using all sorts of weird names for you, why didn't he ever try to help you out with the overblots anyway? He knew it was all happening, and he obviously heard you were involved, and it's clearly in his ability to help you, so..."

"Ace," Deuce hisses, nudging him harshly, "we can't expect the upperclassmen to meddle in things that aren’t their responsibilities."

Ace rolls his eyes, "I'm just saying," he mutters, "it's not like it was any of our issues to deal with either. We did everything we could, right? It wouldn't be so difficult for him to make sure we didn't go through hell and back tryin' to defeat all those crazy guys. Honestly, with how things are going, I won't be surprised if the guy's next to overblot."

Deuce opens his mouth to protest, but your sigh stops him, "I don't think he cares all that much.”

Ace freezes for a moment, the frown slipping off his face as his eyes dart towards Deuce. But just as quickly as he's caught off guard, he quickly regains his composure, looking at you with just a hint of sympathy, "well, that figures. You can't expect all those arrogant—" Deuce's protests go unheard "—seniors to actually want to be around us. They all probably think they're too good for us, 'cause we aren't as powerful."

You like Malleus, but you know better than to expect his help in any of the troubles you face in NRC. Maybe he would help, if you pleaded with him, but the likeliness of that is so close to non-existent that you’d rather not ask at all. You would rather keep your friendship how it’s always been, pretending to be unaware of the other’s troubles outside of the current conversation, never delving too deep with the questions. You’ve always known that it's a possibility Malleus was only coming to see you out of boredom, and not because of genuine interest, but hearing your innermost doubts be declared so boldly as an obvious fact makes your heart shatter. Deuce catches onto your crestfallen expression first, always far too observant, and places a tentative hand on your arm.

"It's alright," you've always liked the way Deuce says your name, in a low, soft voice. It sounds like he's gentle with the letters, stringing them together in a deliberate manner that fits you. You've also noticed, internally filled with pride, that it's only your name he says with such care, "I'm sure he cares about you too..."

He meets Ace's sharp glare and stumbles over his next words, sounding more and more unsure by the end of it, "...even if his...way of showing it is a little…unusual. He’s probably just got a strange idea of how friends are."

"Friends?" Ace scoffs, "he's treating them like a pet. Did you even see how he looked at them? All amused like he didn't expect to see them still doing alright. He probably thought it was funny that they hadn't figured out who he was!"

A pet. What a miserable label, but how fitting. Suddenly the insightful discussions and meaningful moments feel painfully one-sided. He must have thought your wonder and awe to be cute, in an awfully condescending way. And perhaps the thing that hurts the most is knowing that despite how much you look forward to seeing him and how much you think of him, soon, you would only be a small moment from his past, likely forgotten.

“I can’t believe I fell for him, too,” you groan, unaware of how Ace and Deuce immediately go still, “I feel so stupid.”

“You like him?!” Ace’s head whips back to stare at your crouched figure with wide eyes, “like…that?”

A hesitant nod is the only answer you can spare.

“But you barely knew anything about him! How—”

“Are you sure?” At your bewildered look, Deuce scrambles to elaborate, “I thought I—we—would be able to tell when you liked someone, since we’ve been around you for so long. But there was nothing to give it away.”

“I’m sure,” you sigh, but when you think of telling them how Malleus makes you forget all the things you wanted to say or how you find yourself thinking of him all the time, you decide it’s too embarrassing to say out loud, “listen, it’s not something I can explain. But I really do like him—or did, I guess.”

“Huh,” Ace slumps down beside you, “never would’a thought you’d have such terrible taste. I mean, seriously? He’s boring and a total creep.” He manages to dodge your incoming elbow jab just in time, “What? It’s the truth!”

“It’s not your fault that he turned out to be a jerk,” Deuce consoles you, “don’t worry about it. You can’t help how you feel.”

“It doesn’t matter now,” you grumble, “I’ll get over it, eventually.”

“You will,” You can’t help the smile that appears on your face after seeing Deuce’s reassuring one, “we’ll make sure of it.”

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

[hussyknee]

Struck me that it will be ten years since my Dad died this June. I feel each of those ten years, and yet the loss still feels...not fresh, because it was the most pain I had ever felt in my life when it was fresh. It's not the loss, because that's such a hollow, gaping thing. It's more his absence. I think I'm used to not having him around, and then suddenly... I'm not.

When the car rolls up after the weekly trip to the supermarket and Mum gets down and calls for help with the groceries, I still expect my Dad to walk in behind her, or the clatter of the car keys dropped on his secretary desk in the hall. I still expect his head to poke in my room to tell me something. Sometimes the air seems to hang in expectation of his heavy stomp on the stairs, or voice booming for me "Loku-puthaaaaa!" ("elder child" in informal Sinhalese).

It's impossible to explain how larger than life the man was. Six feet and built like a bear, but it's his personality that made him the most towering presence in my life for twenty-seven years. He filled every inch of the house, one of those people with his own well of gravity, so that everyone found themselves orbiting around him somehow. He had no small emotions. He roared with laughter or rage, and his silences were even more deafening. He was either the life of the party or leeched every bit of it with his glower. He incited equally extreme reactions. Everyone either loved him or hated him, wanted his approval and respect even when they hated him, resented him quite justifiably all the more when they needed him. He was a workhorse and workaholic; if you wanted something done or you had a problem, you went to him, and he took care of it. He took great pride in that even as he resented everyone laying their burdens at his door.

No one loved me like he did, and I've loved no one like I loved him. Still love him. I have never looked up to a person more, nor despised any other as much. He was not a good man, but nobody embodied his best qualities so well as him. I hate him so much I hope he's roasting in hell. I miss him so much it feels like I've lost a limb. When he died the world blew apart, and it's never been put back together since. The ringing silence of his absence is such a relief. I want him back so much, and I'm so glad he's dead.

Somehow, in the last ten years, those feelings have become reconcilable. They're strange bedfellows, but comfortable next to each other, a fitting legacy for someone who was a living contradiction in terms.

I love you, Dad. I know you love me too, still, wherever you are. I just wish you had known how to love me like I deserved.

[forbidding-souda]

Mod Souda!~ I have never requested fic before, this is entirely new territory so please forgive me if I misstep. ^_^; Could I please request HC's regarding Korekiyo x autistic S/O? I tried finding similar in the master list, alas I could not which is completely on me if I wasn't thorough enough.

A little afterword of gratitude also for your masterful works on Korekiyo in particular, the way you HC him is beautiful. He is my ultimate comfort character and your content is poignant for me. I also wish you the absolute best on finals and in life in general! (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)♡ I hope you are faring well. Thank you for all that you do here

Shinguuji Korekiyo with Autistic S/O

I've had this blog since quarantine so I can't even remember if I've written anything like this so I'm happy to write one for you regardless or not if it's a repeat.

Hai guys I don't have my edited sprites anymore bc I deleted them awhile ago so here's normal souda. Also if this is ass then my bad

hashtag actually autistic btw for anyone reading, i think it's right to share that when I write these ofc

okay mod souda behavior here where I say random stuff before each story but I'm watching impractical jokers rn and I don't know how some people watch this because the secondhand embarrassment is insane I literaly have to look away PLZZZ. This took an hour to write because half way through I started watching impractical joker clips on youtube (while the show is playing on the tv)

-Mod Souda

♥ He isn't a stickler about your interests. A good thing about being with him is that he won't make fun of you for anything you enjoy, no matter if he enjoys it himself or not. He'll never ask you to turn a movie off or to stop talking about something. He knows more than anybody else how isolating it can feel when somebody refuses to try and tolerate other people's passions; he would never put you down.

♥ He's naturally off-putting. If you experience people considering you off-putting then don't feel alone because Shinguuji is considered off-putting as well. He brushes off the negative things people thinks when it comes to himself, but when it comes to you and the negativity you face, it's hard for him to conceal how irritated he gets.

♥ I know some people have hyperfixations of like medieval torture methods so imagine how much he'd love that.

♥ ^ You also have the chance to teach him about really niche things, that's pretty sweet.

♥ ^ But I imagine that with some topics, he's gonna try and teach you about your own hyperfixation and it's gonna get annoying.

♥ He loves ur reactions to things. He gets so gushy-gushy and poetic. He likes finding what words make you smile, which ones make you laugh and which ones make you want to roll your eyes.

You stared back at him for a few seconds. He held an intense, filling gaze. The two of you were sitting on a park bench, facing the trees and enjoying the sounds of the birds. In between the conversation, there were moments of silence. Usually, he'd break them with small, unrelated sentences, but he's been quiet. "Korekiyo," you said quietly, a bit worried to startle him. To you, he was either in deep thought or, more humorously, sleeping with his eyes open. It took you to say it louder before he turned away. "My apologies," he smiled with a tilt of his head. His hair cascaded down his shoulder. His eyes went to the green leaves dancing in the wind. "We sit here in such a beautiful place, so lively. Most people would give their life away to view a sight like this." With no response, you just stared at him more, already knowing what he was going to say. He looked at you. "I've been all around the world and so I do not wish to waste my time looking at something I've seen before. You, however, do not come close to any of the beauties our world gives to us." "You love me so much, don't you?" You gave him a smile while his yellow eyes developed a look of interest: "You say that but do not realize that jests can be true words, too."

♥ If you need your alone time, he isn't going to stop you because he likes his, too. He knows that obviously you can be infatuated with somebody while also finding comfort in solitude.

♥ ^ And with that, he also has his own boundaries when it comes to where he goes whenever he wants solitude. He likes reading his books and analyzing his artifacts, all of which takes place in his study.

♥ ^ Yeah and don't touch his stuff because he is very protective of his collections. Therefore, he'd also never mess with something you own.

♥ If you're the type of person to have stuffed animals, and especially make them talk, he isn't going to pick up on that very quickly as means of a thing people still do. He'll give a history lesson as to 'ah yes, i've learned about this form of imagination within cultures of story telling, oral adventures'.

♥ Most of the time, he'll put your comfort over his.

♥ He'll stay up with you whenever you have trouble sleeping and are fully awake at 2am, no matter the cost. He is going to make sure that you know he is always there for you. He always has things to do.

♥ If you need help falling asleep, he'll do things like sing to you and let you watch videos in bed, whatever will make you most comfortable.

♥ He got some crazy eye contact btw I just want to put that out there.

[aritsukemo]

My Abandoned WIP Works #1

Summary: Just some works I'll ( most likely ) never finish because I lost motivation, didn't know how to end it, found the plot boring and didn't know how to spice it up, or similar problems like that.

Not what was expected | Mikey S. ( Problem: Lost motivation/Couldn't find a way to wrap everything up )

"So what do you think she looks like?" Chifuyu asked the captains and vice captains as he sat on one of the steps that led to the shrine; The place majority, if not all, of Toman meetings took place.

"Who?" Takemichi—better known in the gang as 'Takemitchy'—asked.

"Oh, you talkin' about her." Ken—more commonly known as 'Draken'—said as he finally connected the dots, "Well actually she's—"

"Bet she has a nice ass," Smiley interrupts, having no shame as he continues, "Or maybe a great set on her. 'Doubt boss would date some pancake."

"Huh?" Takemichi blurted out, feeling dumbfounded as he rapidly turned his head, hastily glancing at each one of them with a mixed look of astonishment and confusion which gets a small chuckle out of Mitsuya.

"They're talking about Mikey's partner. Y'know, the person we're supposed to be meeting today?" Mitsuya clarifies.

"Why else do you think only the captains were summoned?" Chifuyu added with an unnecessary roll of his eyes. Takemichi shoots him a him.

"Well if only the captains are supposed to be here, why are you here?" Takemichi retorts.

"I go wherever you go because you're too much of an idiot to be left alone," Chifuyu explained, earning a loud 'Hey!' from his best friend, "Plus, I got the okay from Mikey before I came. All of us did. Why else do you think only we're here and not everyone?"

Upon saying that, Takemichi looks around and finally takes notice of all the members who actually came. Besides the ones who spoke up, there was only Angry, who was standing off to the side next to his twin. No sight of anyone from the fifth division or any of the other vice captains to be seen.

"I hope she's not an asshole at least.." Angry mumbled after a while. His tone soft despite the scrunched, angry expression that gives off a completely different vibe.

"Actually—" Draken attempts to speak up only to be cut off again, this time by Takemichi.

"I've never heard of Mikey talk about any girls before," He said before murmuring in a lower tone, "I didn't think he'd be interested in dating at all.."

"Apparently they've been dating for a while," Chifuyu spoke up, "Or at least, that's what I assume. I don't think he'd put so much effort into us meeting them otherwise."

"They're pretty close," Draken confirms, "But I think you guys have the wrong idea. Mikey isn't—"

Before the words could leave his lips, the familiar engine of Mikey's CB250T steals everyone's attention. And as the sound grows louder, Mikey quickly comes into view with..

..a guy. Wait, what?

"Hey guys," Mikey greeted nonchalantly despite the multiple reactions of surprise he's met with. Behind him, his partner, a small—even shorter than Mikey—rather thin male cautiously steps off the bike and cautiously walks closer.

"Uhm.. Hi, I'm Y/n, Manjiro's..uh.. You probably already know.." The boy spoke softly, scratching the back of his head, "I- I've heard so much about you guys so I'm glad we finally have the chance to meet. Although I feel a little bad about Manjiro making you guys come all the way out here just for introductions sake.."

Silence.

Baking Disaster | Chifuyu M. and Kazutora H. ( Problem: Didn't think anyone would like the idea and eventually lost motivation all together )

"So, do either of you mind telling me why what just happened...happened?"

Silence. Chifuyu sighs, his eyes involuntarily drifting to the counter where an entire tray—of what he can only assume were cookies—sits atop a towel, the smell it's producing tingling his nose the more it invades it. He looks back over at the two people in front of him, his two partners, both of which covered in flour, batter, and bearing crestfallen expressions. He sighs again.

"It was my fault," Y/n is the one who ends up saying something first, speaking softly as they stare at their feet. And at the sound of their confession, the black and yellow-haired male beside them looks over at them.

"No it's not," He retorts before glancing back over at Chifuyu only to immediately look away as soon as their eyes lock, "It was all my fault. I wasn't paying attention like I should've and now the kitchen's a mess.."

"'Tora's lying," Y/n speaks up again, this time more firmly, "I was the one who set the temperature on the stove too high and burned the cookies. You should blame me."

"I was the one who pour too much butter into them which made them catch fire like that. I'm at fault here," Kazutora says, his guilt-filled eyes locking with his lover.

"We don't know if that's for sure what caused it. I accidentally spilled a bunch of flour into the bowl when you weren't looking and didn't tell you. Not only that, but I completely froze when I realized the fire. You don't have to take the blame for my sake."

"I'm only taking the blame because I'm the one who caused it, love."

"I was the one who caused the fire though, I should be blamed for this." Y/n retorts.

"You wouldn't have made any mistakes if it weren't for me dragging you to the kitchen instead of letting you rest. You've been swamped with assignments ever since your break ended and the moment you finally had a little free time to sleep, I came and bothered you."

"Now you know that isn't true. I offered to help you out since you said you were going to make Chifuyu something."

"Wait, wait, wait," Chifuyu interrupts, his words thrown out rather hastily as his hand waves on beat to his voice, "Those over there.. They're for me?" He questions.

"Well, they were for you, yeah.." Y/n says, voice growing quiet more towards the end of their sentence as they stare at the charred pastries from afar.

"You could say I- er..we wanted to show our appreciation by surprising you," Kazutora says, sounding more dejected as he adds, "But because of me, that didn't happen.."

"Why would you go through all of this trouble anyways?" Chifuyu asks, raising his eyebrow. Not expecting the look of bewilderment he got from the two of them.

"Are you seriously asking us that?" Y/n questions, "Yeah, are you serious?" Kazutora adds, "You do so much for us. You always try to help Y/n with her assignments even though you have no knowledge or experience on the material."

"You did everything you could to cheer up Kazutora when he lost his job at that convenience store a little while back. Hell, you even took on a second job to buy us those expensive ass gifts for Valentine's Day last week," Y/n adds, rolling their eyes as they ask, "The real question is, why didn't we do this sooner?"

Chifuyu chuckles, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his head, "Well all this meant so much to you two, I should thank you guys for your efforts.." Without any further hints, Chifuyu walks over to the counter, both Y/n and Kazutora's eyes widening behind him as he pries one of the black, cindered cookies off the damaged tray, "..It's only right that I give it a taste, right?"

"Chifuyu, wait/No, you shouldn't—" Before either of them could stop him, Chifuyu bites down. He struggles to chew the piece he bit off which cause Y/n to cringe, but it does little to stop him chomping through and swallowing it.

"Wow," He drawls, "This tastes as horrible as I thought it would, maybe even worse.."

"We tried to warn you.." Kazutora says, now feeling even more embarrassed and remorseful about the outcome. To his surprise, Chifuyu takes another bite.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"What does it look like I'm doing, I'm enjoying my snack." Chifuyu replies, voice muffled as he gnaws at the cookie

"You just said it tasted awful," Y/n says.

An Utterly Devoted Familiar | Furina ( Problem: Didn't know how to wrap things up in the way I wanted to and eventually gave up )

Warnings: Spoilers to the Fontaine Archon Quest up ahead!!!

Knocks vibrate throughout the apartment, soft and simple only to become loud and incessant after a while without being acknowledged. The owner of the apartment—who had been so rudely awoken by the noise—arose from her bed with a sour look on her face. Her heterochromic, ocean-like eyes burning with fire as she scans her room for her slippers.

"Coming, coming..! Gosh.." She shouts in a rather grumpy manner when the knocking continued. Understandably so. It was the middle of the night and someone, who clearly has no mind for other people's sleep, was banging on her door like some madman. Anyone in her shoes would've been pissed.

Honestly, do people have no respect these days? To just disrupt someone's sleep without a care in the world what could possibly be so important?

After finally finding her slippers, Furina practically stomped out of her room and up to her door. She was planning on giving whoever was on the other side a piece of her mind for waking her up and then go back to bed when she cooled down, but as the door swings open and Furina is met with the perpetrator, all her anger is washed away like a seashell against a water current.

There, standing before her with their fluffy ears twitching eagerly atop their head and pastries in hand, was the Hydro Archon's—Furina's former companion, you.

"You finally answered, my lady!" You chirped, "I'm so glad! Heh, for a second there, I thought I had the wrong address.."

She was at a lost for words. Why were you here? And why did you seem so happy? After everything came to light and Fontaine found out she was a sham, she was sure she'd never see you again..

So why in the world are you standing at her doorstep?

"Y/n.." She mumbled out in disbelief, but you seemed rather pleased nonetheless. Your name always sounded so lovely whenever it came from her lips.

"May I come in, my lady?" You ask after a while of her staring at you as if she'd seen a ghost, "If not, I don't mind standing here."

"Oh! Uh- No! Come in!" What is she saying? She should be shooing you away, not welcoming you in! "Sit wherever you'd like!" She continues anyway, stepping aside.

Obviously pleased, a smile graces your face and you walked in without hesitation, marveling in awe at her home as if it was made of gold or something.

"This place is so cute! You've decorated well, my lady!" You praise and she has to resist visibly cringing in response to your praise. In all honesty, her place wasn't much to look at. In fact, the place was quite barren since she hadn't gotten around to decorating it yet..

"Thank you.." She forces out, avoiding your piercing gaze as it falls on her. She turns on her heel, showing her back to you as she slowly, hesitantly closes the door.

"So..uhm, what brings you here at this hour?" She finally asks after taking her time to lock her door and turn to you; silently gulping when she locks eyes with your slited ones. Your eyes were always so intimidating to her for some reason.

"I wanted to see you of course!" You gleefully say, "But I've been so busy with running errands for Monsieur Neuvillette lately so I hadn't had the time."

You look so happy. So excited to see her again and here she stands, surprised, looking almost petrified as guilt bubbles in her chest.

She can barely force a smile on her lips and when she does, Furina is almost positive of how crinkled it probably looks, but it'll have to do for now, "I see..so that's your reason.. Well, you've seen me now so you can go and—"

"I stopped by Café Lutece earlier today," You mindlessly rambled, "I cleared out my morning so that I could get your favorite cake.." A small sigh leaves your lips as you continue, "Unfortunately, by the time I got there all sixteen slices had already been sold out..but, I should've expected that. After all, my lady has great taste in dessert, it's no wonder they always sell so fast!"

You shake your head, your ears wiggling as a result of your attempt at physically clearing your head, "Anyways, I'm sorry I couldn't get your favorite cake, but I bought everything else you see here to make up for my blunder so I hope this can earn your forgiveness," While you spoke, Furina's eyes watched your every movement, narrowing in on the pile of small boxes of sweets as you stretched your hands out to dump the pile into her arms.

As she staggered to catch the boxes that threatened to slip through her grasp and splatter all over the floor, her eyes widened at the realization of the mere size of the pile. This variety of sweets isn't at all small. There were so many that even she would take at least a week or two to get through the majority of this. Just how much time and money did it take you to get all of this for her? Furina's heart sinks at the mere thought of you spending even a dime on her..

"H- Hey, how much was all of this exactly?" The question hesitantly, almost fearfully escapes her. Your ears perk up and your rambling comes to an abrupt stop. Nevertheless, your face easily gives away how you feel towards the question; genuine confusion.

"Why the sudden ask, my lady? Whenever I used to buy you sweets before, you'd never care to ask about the prices.."

"Well, you of all people know that..I'm not.." She couldn't even get the words out. To put it simply, the mere thought of the incidents occurred makes her shudder. Everything was so embarrassing it makes her want to lock herself in this home for five hundred years..

Hm, but with that curse lifted, thankfully she's not able to live that long anymore.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[hairybirthdayclown]

as someone who has detriment placements

here's the run down of each while i listen to Mitski.

• capricorn Moon is literally my favourite Moon sign not because i have it but because these natives care so deeply about a lot. they just have never been given the outlet to express themselves, so they find alternative ways to do so with how they show that they care & with other emotions. this is why they can be deemed as complex. what i've noticed is that they have a very childlike spirit because they might've skipped out on their childhood. they're prone to watching cartoons or listening to their favourite songs from when they were younger. their emotional development is delayed because they never thought it needed to be due to their mature nature throughout their lives. reaction time is also delayed tbh; these natives could still be affected by the past but choose not to do anything about it until later on in life or until they realise it.

a song i associate these lot with:

• sagittarius Mercury please stop before i piss myself. y'all are so unserious it's so entertaining sometimes. what i've noticed with these natives is that they're very loud. with myself, i normally TEXT LIKE THIS & talk a lot. these people are quite funny either intentional or not. it's not necessarily anything difficult but sometimes i tend to turn small talk into meaningful discussions when i'm bored, same with the other 5 people in my life with this placement. i hateee small talk but i've noticed we're really good at conversating & filling awkward silence. lying for fun, exaggerating stories blahblahblah.

your song:

• scorpio Venus ...one thing that people don't talk about is how others get obsessed with these natives, especially those who've been romantically involved with them. 2 of my friends have this & their exes from years ago are still fixated on them. i don't date or get romantically involved with anyone but A LOT of people & old friends of mine developed a crush on me & even claimed to be in love with me. a guy that i know has this & his personality is equivalent to a stale turd but an abnormal amount of people wanted to date him. people love attention from these natives i think. but all in all, we just want to be loved by one specific person & them being absolutely enamoured by us. the challenging aspect of it all is keeping a stable relationship.

your song:

• cancer Saturn i've noticed are the most caring people ever. they usually care about other peoples wellbeing but from my experience they hate when others ask how they're doing/feeling. they hate being asked questions about themselves in regards to how they feel. in some cases it takes years for them to outwardly act caring & compassionate towards those they truly care about, even themselves sometimes. i think one of their biggest fears is being vulnerable. they're like a stern parent who acts like they're okay so that other people don't worry too much about them. they don't want to seem like a burden. their family life could've been unemotional & lacked affectionate gestures. one of the biggest lessons these lot have to learn how to express their emotions without fear or judgement. you're not wrong for the way you feel.

y'all need a whole playlist:

*(there's nothing wrong with you. i'm not a pro at all. take what resonates)

thanks for reading :)

[wonjnz]

unconventional heartbreak

₊˚⊹ summary: heartbreak is nothing but a numb feeling, no hard feelings, and yet no love either.

₊˚⊹ genre: angst, slice of life, college!au | wc: 1.2k

₊˚⊹ warning(s): mentions of alcohol, swearing | inspo: taylor swift - the story of us (but less toxic)

₊˚⊹ a/n: logged on tumblr for the first time in 2 years and got the biggest whiplash 😭 this was written on a whim while i was listening to speak now tv

quite frankly, you don’t know how you and taerae became a couple.

you both started as friends ever since taerae offered to help you with your math homework (though most of the time all he did was talk until you found the answer yourself), and you were together ever since.

but it wasn’t until a few months before college started when taerae finally admitted his feelings to you, drunk out of his mind, at matthew’s house party to celebrate your high school graduation. to taerae’s horror the next day, his phone was blaring with messages from matthew about it, and he swore he was about to pass out when you mentioned it while helping with his hangover.

he clears his throat in an attempt to break the silence, “fine, i admit. i've liked you for a while now.” he says in an almost defeated tone. you shake your head, laughing, “dumbass.”

“you don’t even remember the fact i said i liked you too?”

his friends pointed it out the first time you both argued and ignored each other: the fact you were keener on listening to his stories and what-not than joining in on the conversation; the fact you can concentrate on homework much longer than taerae, who’d probably give up by 30 minutes and start procrastinating instead.

“in his defense, i wouldn’t wanna date a carbon copy of myself either.” gyuvin shrugs, to which taerae looks at him ridiculously. “yeah no shit, because you’re gyuvin.”

taerae smiles softly after, “but i guess they’re right with the whole opposites attract thing.”

a few months into your relationship, you’d describe it as walking into a freshly painted room, trying to tiptoe to avoid getting stained. at first, you two were careful with the whole 'romance thing,' waiting for the other to catch up.

months after, you two were more than willing to run across, disregarding the wet streaks of paint across your clothes. to taerae, that was through the first time you both ever kissed while you both pulled an all-nighter for finals; both of you were tired, it was one in the morning, and the taste of coffee was still present on his lips.

and to you, that was being the first to say 'i love you.' with a bunch of wet streaks of paint smeared across your cheeks. you still can't forget taerae's face when you first said it, almost as if you were both kids and you said some forbidden word.

"what?" you say right after, a bit concerned over the sudden silence between you. sure, you were in a library, but still.

"no way." you laugh at his reaction, his mouth slowly forming into a big smile to the point his dimples were prominent. before you could jokingly repeat his words, he pulled you in what seemed to be the longest hug you've had in years.

the paint seemed to be drying up to look like some sort of home, and you hoped this was the endgame. you haven't loved someone like how you loved taerae in years, and everything about him was special.

but now, you were both standing in the very few empty dry spaces of that room. well, more realistically, you were both in his apartment. should this happen a few months back, you’d bask in the warm comfort of it, but god, this silence is deafening.

“you alright?” taerae’s voice brings you back to reality, you realize you’ve been standing around for probably the past 15 minutes while taerae was busy brewing another cup of coffee for the night. “yeah, just worried about a few deadlines.”

but you knew your answer was nothing to taerae, he knows you too well. "right. we've known each other for like, what, 6 years? i know that's not the only thing bugging you lately.” you sigh at his response, a worried look visible on his face, does he know as well? you ask yourself.

and you realize it was cloudy, hindering the paint to dry up. you’re still standing on the same empty spots, both scared to take a step towards some finish line, a window of some sort to let some light in. it felt like all your unresolved arguments, what ifs, unfinished deep talks, and “how are you’s” were the wet paint you were so scared of getting a stain off.

“no really, just tired lately. you don’t have to worry about me.” you walk over and reassure him with a simple kiss on the cheek, to which taerae simply mumbles a small ‘alright.’ though you can still tell he doesn’t believe you.

so you planned to try and be bold on some other day. but taerae’s “hey, love.” the moment he welcomed you back into his apartment with a hug and kiss on the forehead delayed it to your dismay. (it’s not like you hated his touch, but all that confidence building while walking up to his apartment was not worth it).

it's not like you didn't love taerae anymore. you love being the first person to see him in the morning, and the last he sees before he sleeps. you love him. but it wasn't the sort of love that kept you going despite the arguments before.

and all you could do was reply with a kiss and bask in his warmth for a little while. judging from his slightly sad greeting earlier, you know taerae thinks the same about your relationship. the both of you tiptoeing to a blank spot where it’s a constant routine of asking how the other is feeling about something; about this; and finally about us, you hoped.

but you didn’t hope he’d ask this soon. what more during a dark, rainy night while you’re both busy finishing up the leftovers from his fridge. the only thing keeping you both in the same table was the random video taerae started playing that piqued your interest.

“how do you feel about this?” oh. you're backed into an empty corner.

you gaze at him from across the table, a glass of water in hand, “about us?” he continues. the sound of rain and his god-awful cutlery (you could barely poke it through your food) hitting the table amidst the silence was almost deafening.

and that’s when you realize taerae ran back to the starting line, regardless of the paint staining his clothes. so you ran after him with the same sense of adventure you had before, the moment you reached him all you said was “i think it’s better if we break up.”

taerae smiles pitifully, looking back to his empty plate. and he hoped, he prayed you can’t see the hurt on his face when even he knew this might come sooner or later. “yeah.”

“i understand, i thought so too.” he reassures you after a few minutes of silence, pushing his plate to the side. “but you know i’ll still love you regardless right?” he asks, to which you laugh, the tension fading away.

“just not in the same way anymore, right? like the days before you turned up blackout drunk.” you joke. you could never hate taerae, especially not during the days you’d spend mornings with him clinging on; or the nights when he’s busy boiling noodles while you’re studying for exams.

he laughs along, “yeah, as friends.”

but when taerae wakes up the next morning to silence, his bed feeling lighter than usual, the scent of rain still fresh from last night, he’s feeling awfully lonely. but he resists the temptation of typing the typical, rom-com ‘i miss you.’ text, you’re probably still asleep at this time, he knows your schedule by heart.

the thing with the love the both of you shared was how it never caught one by surprise. sure, taerae’s drunken confession is one, but you both took things slow. almost too slow to some. his feelings were a slow buildup, only realizing he was interested in you when he was cleaning up his desk, which was full of trinkets you gave him.

only did he realize he was in love is when he hadn’t taken off the keychain you gave him on his birthday in months, which you pointed out was all dirty and scratched up. but he responded to your complaint with a “but it’s from you!” and he realized it has and will always be you.

and only did he realize you’ll forever have a special place in his heart while he’s still in bed, hair sticking up everywhere and his eyes barely opening as the sun blares through his curtains as the gray clouds slowly disappear.

when the silence finally settles in him, taerae figures he’d rather take his goodbye slowly as well.

[realchanslaptop]

Bang Chan's reaction when you breakup

Genre: Angst

Bang Chan

Chan has always been the sweetest most lovable person there is. He loved being with y/n, anytime he came home from a long stressful day at work his face would light up the moment he saw y/n. Y/n was his light, his world. Y/n was now sitting on the couch looking through the photos of her and Chan on her phone with tears in her eyes wondering where it all went wrong. " we were so happy, what happened" y/n thought to herself. Y/n's heart clenched as she looked at the photo of her and Chan where Chan was smiling while hugging her, while at the same time she thought about the way Chan has been ignoring her and the way he's been speaking to her lately. About 3 months ago when all of this started, Chan had started acting different. He wasn't acting like his usual self he wasn't smiling and hugging y/n like he used to, he started to pretty much ignore y/n all together except when she would ask him questions, he answered her questions very vaguely. Y/n tried everything to figure out what was wrong. Y/n tried asking him what was wrong and trying to talk to him about it, but unfortunately his reaction was the same every time, "nothing' he said. "Something is bothering you and I can't help you if you don't tell me" y/n said as she went to hold his hand. "I don't want your fucking help" Chan exclaimed as he threw y/n's hand off of his. ever since then he's been quiet distant and acts like your the problem. *Fast forward to present* y/n starts thinking about it " what if I'm the problem, he can't seem to stand it when I'm around" y/n thought. " if i just let go of him he will be much happier" y/n said this as Chan walked in the door, she heard the sound of the front door shut and the sound of Chan taking off his shoes and hanging up his car keys. At this point y/n has tears in her eyes. "Chan" y/n calls out, Chan lets out a frustrated sigh " what now y/n, I just got home and you can't even give me 5 minutes of silence" Chan says. "Well, here's the thing I'm telling you we need to break up, I'm tired of being ignored and treated like shit, you want your silence so bad guess what you can have it I'm done with this bullshit" y/n says as she stomps upstairs to start packing. Chan stands there frozen in shock, your words have finally registered in his brain, tears start to well up in his eyes as he runs up the stairs after you. "y/n please I'm sorry don't do this" Chan says. He walks into the bedroom and sees you putting all of your belongings into your suitcase. " I've put up with this for long enough I've tried talking to you, I've tried to figure out the problem and what to do to fix it and now I realize that its me, so yes Chan I will do this because I'm not going to stay here and continue to be treated like fucking trash because I don't deserve that, you don't deserve to be unhappy either so this is a good thing for the both of us" y/n yells. "y/n you're right you don't deserve that,but you're not the problem I've been so fucking stressed out at work there's so much to do and i don't have enough energy to balance work and everything else, I'm so sorry for acting like a dick, I wont do it again please y/n I'm begging you don't leave me, I can't imagine my life without you" Chan said sobbing. Y/n had just finished packing and she picked up her suitcase " I'm sorry Chan but this is for the best, goodbye Chan" y/n said as she walked out of the bedroom with tears streaming down her face, Chan followed her down the stairs and out to her car sobbing begging her to stay, he watched through his teary eyes as she pulled out of the drive way and drove away all he had left to remember her were the pictures of all the good times they had in his phone.

[dotster001]

Make it Work

Summary: Asmo x Asexual reader. You worry your heart's gonna break when the avatar of Lust learns you're asexual.

A/N: I've seen a lot of Asmo "reacts to asexual reader", and they're cute, but I just felt like it wouldn't be a cut and dry thing (cause it never is, amiright aces 😭) there's a pleasant ending here, so don't worry too much about it.

When you had heard that you would be sharing a house with the seven deadly sins incarnate, you had obviously been spooked. But what scared you the most was the idea of living with the avatar of lust.

Early on, you had avoided him as much as possible, until Belphie had asked you to make a pact with him. The idea of what Asmo represented frightened you to your very core. You were constantly worried that he would find out, and drop the statements you were used to,but still dreaded hearing.

"That's not real."

"You just haven't found the right person yet."

"I can fix you."

And many more that, quite frankly, you'd rather not ever come up.

And for a while, it looked like it wasn't going to. Yes Asmo would be suggestive with you, and he was very clear of his intentions and the fact that he wanted to be more with you, but he never pushed.

So by Diavolo, why had you let yourself fall in love with him? 

"You've been avoiding me," he pouted as he did your makeup.

He had finally hunted you down after you had returned to the avoiding tactic you had picked up at the beginning of your stay. He came in with the most adorable pout, and told you he just haaaaaaaaad to try this makeup look on you. And now you were realizing it was a trap.

"Have I?" You choked out.

"Mhmm," he hummed, before burying his face in your hair. "I thought we were closer than this, Y/N!" He whined, before sitting back up and continuing your makeup look.

His scrutinous look was making you nervous; you couldn't tell if it was a look for your makeup or for you.

"I'm just going through something, no big deal," you tried to laugh it off.

"Oh," he said, now looking worried. "Then let me help you! We can work it out together!" He sat on his vanity and took your hands in his, earnestly searching your eyes.

This. This was why you fell in love with him. His kindness.

"I'm in love with you!" You decided to rip the band-aid off. He looked so happy. He let out an excited squeal, and moved to kiss you. You knew you had to have this conversation right now, before either of you got more hurt than you were already going to be.

You pressed your hands to his lips, eliciting a pout until he saw the nervous expression on your face. His features softened, but you still felt like you were going to throw up.

"Asmo, I'm asexual." There it was out there, now to wait for his reaction. 

His lips parted a little bit, and his eyes seemed to be far away. Maybe he didn't know what it meant?

"Asexual is when…."

"I know what it is, darling," he said simply. "I'm just thinking….give me a moment?"

You nodded, wringing your hands. After what felt like an eternity, he popped his lips, then picked up the makeup brush, and continued your makeup. You sat as still as a statue, waiting for him to say anything.

After another pause, he said, "First, I want to apologize if I've ever made you uncomfortable, and thank you for feeling safe enough to tell me." He gave a wry laugh, "Considering who I am, that can't have been easy for you."

You continued sitting in silence as he sighed.

"I'm not going to pretend this will be easy for me. Cause it won't. I know I'm not my sin, but damn it, sometimes it's hard to differentiate from that part of my life." Another heavy sigh. "But I want to make things work with you, because I love you so much that it hurts when you aren't with me. I'm gonna slip up from time to time, and I want you to tell me when I go too far." 

He set down the brush and gripped your shoulders. 

"I love you so deeply. And if you can find it in yourself to trust me to know your limits, and not push you ever, but also be willing to slap me if I do push..." He trailed off with a half hearted giggle, leaving the end of his thought I said.

"I wanna make things work with you too, Asmo," you breathed, feeling like you were about to cry, "But are you sure you'll be okay with…"

"Yes."

He said it so firmly. You'd never seen him so resolved to anything. God, you loved him.

That did it. Now you were crying. You pulled him in tightly for a hug, which he returned with just as much fervor. You muttered something that you were pretty sure he couldn't hear.

"What?" He asked, and you could tell he was also crying.

"I wanna cuddle with you, Asmodeus," you whimpered.

He picked you up bridal style, and carried you to his bed, where you both stayed until your crying had ceased, and you had both processed that you were going to finally make things work.

[puppy-coded]

Do You Want It To Hurt?{S.H.}

✰ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut mdni(so help me), piv, sub!steve, bondage(m), denial(m), implied masturabation(m)

✰ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Steve Harrington x wednesday!reader

✰ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.7k words

✰ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You were originally supposed to show Steve a new device but he got a little too excited with your plans.

✰ 𝐀/𝐍: Wednesday!reader but not the same universe as sunshine and moonlight. unrelated smut blurb, i'm just horny. Also, um, first smut fic so... please be kind <3

"Do you just... take pleasure in my threats?" You asked. "You don't seem to be reacting in the way normal people do." You observed, looking Steve up and down.

Steve's eyes widened. He didn't have a suitable answer ready. At all.

He wasn't expecting it. He panicked and said, "Actually a little bit." Which took you by surprise.

He was surprised that he said it too. What surprised him even more was your reaction to his answer.

"You should come by my place then. I've been dying to use that new torture device." You deadpanned. A small trace of a smile graced your features as you thought about your new "baby" as you lovingly deemed the device. "You can be the thing I break it in on."

"Good!"

Steve was done for.

You did your version of "excitement" at the end of the day and Steve could tell. He was starting to want to back out of his stupidity but he knew if he opened his mouth he'd dig his hole deeper.

You walked up to him with a small bounce in your final step towards him. "Are you ready?"

"Real quick, and I'm not backing out, I swear, but... um... will it hurt?" He asked nervously. He still wasn't sure what he wanted your answer to be.

You and Steve stared at each other for a few moments. "Do you want it to?" You asked, finally breaking the silence.

"Let's... just go." Steve said, not trusting himself to lie to you.

You made a mental note of his avoidance.

He never really looked at you on the way to the manor either. Usually he'd be trying to make conversation, most times failing, but now he had his hands in his pockets and seemed lost in thought.

Until you two got there.

"Come." You ordered. Steve could have sworn he would have died then and there.

Steve thought he died and ascended into heaven. A hot girl ordering him around and about to... do unspeakable things to him?

Oh please god yes.

"Follow me. Just ignore everything that's not the torture chamber." You instructed as you led Steve down the hall. "Especially Frank's room."

"Uh... Who's Frank?"

"Don't worry about it."

Steve nodded and started to nervously bite his nails. He was starting to think he read the situation wrong and you really wanted to murder him but play with him first, like a cat.

You wordlessly pulled him into a dimly light room and led him to your new "stretchy" table. "Lay down. I'll strap you in in a moment."

You smiled when he willingly laid down and you cuffed in his wrists and ankles, as promised. "Comfy?" You asked teasingly, though your tone wasn't evident of that fact.

Steve swallowed a forming lump in his throat and nodded. "Good."

You smiled wider as you wrapped your hands around the handle that would stretch Steve ever so slightly... but enough to hurt.

Steve watched and wished that your hands were around his now aching cock. He should not be turned on by this. He shouldn't. It's not something he even dreamed of being into.

But here he was. About to be found out by you and you'd probably be unrelenting in the torture for even daring to think of you like that.

As soon as you pulled the lever you noticed Steve's... predicament and Steve let out a hiss in pain.

You leaned down next to his face, noticing his slight blush across his freckled cheeks. "Is this turning you on?"

"Only a little. Please don't kill me."

"Kill you?" You asked a slightly panicked Steve. "Now the real fun begins."

You traced your finger down his side as you walked to the other end of the table, putting a hand on his thigh. "Before I continue, do you actually want it? Or are you into the pain?"

Steve just nodded.

"Answer me."

Steve looked away before he responded. "Yes. I want it."

It was getting ridiculous now. "Look me in the eyes and answer me Steven. I won't touch you until you follow a simple command such as this."

He looked you in the eyes, clearly embarrassed by what he was about to do. "Yes. I want it."

"Yes what?"

"Yes please. Please fuck me. I need it," He whined. Oh he was a pathetic loser now, not the over-confident King Steve he usually was.

This is going to be fun.

You unbuttoned his jeans and just pulled them down. You snapped the waistband of his boxers, which made Steve gasp, before pulling the handle of the table again, this time making it go back to normal.

You finally, slowly, pulled his boxers down to his ankles along with his jeans. You wrapped a hand around his cock and smiled at the relieved sigh Steve let out.

You squeezed slightly and he just stared at you. You and Steve made eye contact, not breaking it as you took your own panties off. He stared as he watched you hitch up your skirt to get to them.

"Oh? Someone looks kinda... desperate for some... attention." You said quietly. "I know just the thing."

You grabbed some scissors from the nearest table and Steve's eyes widened. "Wha..." He cleared his throat as his voice cracked at the sight. "What are those for?" He asked, slightly shaking as you traced the blade down his jaw.

You stared into his eyes before responding. "I think... you should tell me to stop when you don't feel comfortable." You said simply. "Just a simple 'red' and I'll stop everything and uncuff you. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good. Now I'm going to cut your shirt open. For fun." You told him, cutting it down his chest.

Steve shivered at the cold on his bare skin, blush creeping up his chest to his neck when he realized you were fully clothed and he was not.

No fair.

You got on the table on top of him, straddling his torso. "You're lucky. I've decided against the wax. Instead..." You bit you lip and pinched one of his nipples. "I'm going to have my fun." You now squeezed both of them until he gasped. "Understand?"

"Y-yes ma'am. I... I understand. Please just... I need it." He said. "Please. I want you. I want to feel you around me. I want-" You cut him off with your hand.

You held your hand there and put a finger to your lips. He stopped talking and stared at you, he was practically tearing up from how built up he was.

You smiled sadistically and took your hand from his mouth down to his throat. "You're so pitiful sometimes, you know that?" You asked Steve, slowly squeezing. He nodded the best he could and you dug your nails ever so slightly into the sensitive skin of his neck. "Words."

"Yes." He choked out. "Yes I'm so pitiful sometimes." He agreed. He really only said it so you would get to the sex part faster.

You squeezed a little harder for a little longer, wanting to see him squirm. Or, at least, attempted to.

"I can do this all day," You reminded him. "I'm not the one turned on by this." That's a lie but he didn't have to know that. "I will, however, show mercy on you this time." You smiled. It was a sweet smile, a smile that told Steve to mentally prepare for something. He just didn't know what he had to mentally prepare for.

You got up off the table and slowly, ever so slowly, got back on. You straddled Steve once more and hovered over his cock. "Is there anything you want to tell me before I begin?"

Steve stared at you with wide eyes. "You're pretty?"

"Cute." You deadpanned, finally sinking down on him. He stretched you out so deliciously well and you couldn't quite contain your moans. "Not what I was expecting at all Steven."

Steve kept his mouth shut, he didn't want to say anything stupid and, as a result, have you stop.

You went slowly. Slowly rolling your hips which felt heavenly. You had adjusted yourself to him and pulled off your shirt, giving Steve a nice view of your tits. Good thing you didn't feel like wearing a bra today.

Steve desperately tried moving. He tried to thrust up into you but couldn't because of his restraints.

You noticed his barely there efforts and leaned down close to him. "What do you want Steven? I can't do anything if you don't use your words," You reminded him.

"Pl-please go faster." He whispered, clearly embarrassed.

You put your hands on his stomach and he knew he was not going to last as long as he wanted. You quickly rocked your hips and accidentally hit that perfect spot inside of you.

You nearly lost yourself in your own feelings but quickly caught yourself. You bit your hand to keep yourself quiet, wanting to hear Steve's whimpers and moans.

Oh he was cute.

Both of your voices filled the chamber within minutes. You were getting so close and you could tell Steve was too. You bounced on his cock like it was the last thing you'd ever do. You just needed to get there. You just wanted to finish.

Your climax hit you and you leaned back, content with everything you'd just done. Of course you were, you just had great sex with Steve Harrington.

You got up, earning a whine from Steve. "Yes Steven?" You asked, somewhat breathless.

"What about me?" He asked.

You stared at him unblinkingly for an unsettling amount of time. "You should have finished when you had the chance." You said, knowing full well you would have pulled out the wax if he dared finish before you did.

Oh well.

You undid all his restraints and handed him his jeans. "Ask my brother for a shirt. I'm sure he wouldn't mind. If he says no then I guess you're going home shirtless." You said, putting your own shirt back on.

Steve nodded. He just went home. He practically ran to his place and locked himself in his room to finish what you had started.

. . .

✰ 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @beezywriting @sw34terw34ther

[fruitcoops]

4/13 for a sequel of sorts to backslide? been lovin coops extra recently. p.s. this is the cutest of prompt lists :))

#4: A kiss on the temple

#13: Kissing scars either shortly or long after they’ve healed

Backslide; tw for past injury

Sirius was kissing him. Just kissing. Just gentle. Just focused. Remus watched him work in silence, letting Sirius guide his limbs like a doll. It was kind of nice, not needing to do any work. All he had to do was lay there and be loved.

That in itself was a refreshing change. He was tired of reassuring people over and over again, yes I'm okay don't worry it's fine just a partial one no you don't have to bring food yes I promise, especially his friends. It was embarrassing to know it had been that bad from their point of view. Their intentions were good, but Remus couldn't handle another minute of being treated like glass.

Sirius kissed the sensitive dip of his elbow and laid his head on the bed next to it with a long exhale, watching Remus watch him while the world went by outside.

"I'm okay," Remus said quietly. He reached up to push Sirius' hair out of his eyes and got a nuzzle on the hand for his troubles. He couldn't help but smile. "I'm okay."

Silver eyes tracked over his torso and settled on his other arm, still strapped to his body for another two days. At least the sling was comfortable. Sirius shifted and tucked his feet under the blankets they had kicked away. "I'm trying to believe you."

"I really am, baby."

"It's not that I don't trust you."

"Sirius," he whispered.

"It's not," Sirius repeated. "You would tell me if you were hurting. It's impossible to see this and not want to fix it, though."

We're both afflicted with chronic 'I can fix him', Remus thought as he let Sirius' hair flow over his fingertips. Look where it's got us. He let his hand fall and tugged on Sirius' sleeve. His visible care to avoid Remus' bad side when he scooted closer to lay on him made love beat like moth's wings in his chest; Remus buried his face in the soft cotton of his shirt and inhaled deeply, soap and laundry and Sirius, not a tinge of antiseptic. The cracking, aching thing next to his heart heaved a sigh of relief.

"It's just time and ibuprofen at this point. Kisses and cuddles are a bonus."

"I'll pass the message along to the guys."

He could feel Sirius' wry grin when he groaned. "Oh, god, no, I've been coddled within an inch of my life already."

"It makes them happy to baby you."

"I wish I knew why so I could never do it again."

"It's because you're so cute." Sirius went to give his cheek a playful pinch and Remus batted him away, laughing. A smacking kiss landed on his temple instead; Sirius pressed their faces tight together. Remus felt him relax, weighing him down like a giant heat pad, one thigh slung over his own and a hand tracing patterns on his belly. Sirius nudged at him once more before returning to his work, dropping kisses wherever he could reach.

He paused at the edge of the sling. Remus kissed the shell of his ear. "You can."

He did.

It was funny, being kissed there. Remus couldn't help the squirmy feeling it gave him, somehow more intimate than being kissed anywhere else. It would never be erotic--and judging from Sirius' reaction, he felt the same--but it gave him the same overwarm fast-pulsed charge that a suggestive hand on the knee might. It was being seen and known in the most blatant way.

Not today, though. No, not today.

"It's not fair," Sirius murmured. Remus shook his head and wove his fingers in dark curls. "I want--I want to take it all away."

"I would let you."

Sirius lifted his head an inch and let his lips linger on the shiny scar marking the pin's entry point all those years ago. Remus was sick of it and grateful. The pin had done its job. His shoulder was stronger, was set in place. The jerk-around hurt, but it was so much more bearable now. His skin cooled when Sirius turned away to put his head on Remus' bare chest. "I'll be here."

"I know."