#And again it's slow. It's in bits and piece and back and forth. My worst habit is switching something from religious to moral

[gxlden-angels]

do you have any thoughts on the story of abraham and isaac? my parents talk about it and praise abraham for being willing to kill his son which..... scares me to say the least, and i'd love to hear your perspective as someone who seems more well-adjusted

Where I am now, it disgusts me more than anything. The interpretation of "I'm willing to sacrifice your life if I was told to" feels like the step before "I put you into this world and I can take you out of it." It's entitlement to a child, who is an independent individual, just because they are dependent on you for survival. I prefer the interpretation of understanding the actions you're taking and the reasons why (like how there's multiple religions that don't eat pork because it was so unsafe to eat at the time), especially if it's at someone else's expense.

Where I was in the thick of it all, it gave me morbid comfort that scares me now. I had fantasies of being a martyr for the church and the idea of being the next Isaac was just so appealing. Being a hand-selected sacrifice chosen by the Good Lord Himself? Sign me the fuck up, babey!

I think if I admitted that to my family, they'd be horrified.

It's another one of those stories or beliefs where I think the majority of christians just regurgitate what they've heard. It's a point of pride and devotion, but there's no personal reflection or cross-cultural awareness of it. Lean not unto your own understanding and whatnot. It's the potential that scares me the most, like the Quiverfull movement with the Duggars or Turpins. I'm sure there's stories now, but I can't remember them off the top of my head

(Also I will be telling my therapist someone on Tumblr called me "more well-adjusted" thank you anon)

[roomsofangel]

BAD IDEA! . . . # CHAPTER ONE

synopsis you were always pressured by your family to start dating and have a life, as they said. with constantly getting compared to your older sister, and twin brother, san, you were constantly trying to find ways to gather approval from your parents. which is why now you were in a huge mess after giving a false story of a boyfriend that didn’t exist and your family now set and eager to meet him on this year’s vacation.

warnings none really, just suggestive jokes made by mingi and the mention of vomit.

wc 1.7k

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you knew it was a stupid idea. one of the worst ones in the history of your life — yet, you sat in your seat, shoulders slouched as you rested your weight on your elbows while you leaned forward, head falling onto your arms while you huffed an audible breath. you could have sworn you heard multiple pens drop and be picked up, you clicked yours a few times as well until the slam of something being set next to your head alerted you — body swinging upwards and you’re now face to face with him.

kang yeosang. your bad idea.

“you fell asleep, hurry up.” his voice ushered, harshly whispering while he rested his hands on his hips, brows scrunched together as he looked down at you

you scoffed, waving him off and leaning back, hearing the cracks of your spine before the tension released, “what’s it matter to you?”

yeosang shook his head with a teasing toothless grin, “jesus, someone woke up on the wrong side of the chair.” he chuckled

“don’t mess with me right now, okay?” you rubbed your temples in circles as you spoke, leaning down to the side to get your bag before standing, swinging the strap over your shoulder and fixing your posture, meeting his gaze yet again, “i’m not in the mood.”

yeosang hummed, “lost in thought?”

“drop it.” your eyes shot daggers into him, he held his chest as if they actually pierced a wound before throwing his hands up in defense

“hey, hey, was just asking,” he briefed, shrugging when he let his arms fall back to his side, expression unreadable before it melted into his familiar, stupidly jesting one, “don’t gotta bite.”

you huffed, glaring at him, “i wasn’t bi—“ stopping yourself mid-sentence, you knew it was impossible to try and even go back and forth as the two of you usually do, and if you wanted to ask him to go along with your stupid shenanigans later, you’d need to be civil. for now. “look, just leave it.”

“as you wish,” yeosang nodded, aimlessly looking around the room and tapping his foot while you brushed against his shoulder to leave the classroom, hearing his muttered yet loud enough for you to hear, “princess”

“yeosang!” you swiftly turned back in a haste, voice louder than intended which caught attention from other people who attended the lecture, you sunk into your own body and shifted your bag strap before softly apologizing

“sorry..” you bowed before turning to shoot a glare towards yeosang

who always accepted them with open arms, sending you a smile in return that you always declined

you weren’t sure how you were going to do this. it was a stupid idea. but kang yeosang was just as impulsive as you — he was all you had if you wanted to make this work.

“just tell them you can’t make it.”

was the first thing that came out of your friend mingi’s mouth who had his mouth stuffed with french fries, using his hand to cover himself enough to speak before getting a slow down and swallow first from hongjoong who slid him a napkin

you sighed, using your fork to pick at your untouched, and unwanted, caesar salad that you were unfortunately forced to bring in replacement due to your brother taking your packed one from the night before, “you obviously don’t know my family then.” you bitterly amused, piercing a piece of lettuce a bit more harshly

“what did that poor lettuce ever do to you?” yunho amused with his lips against the cup he later took a sip from, earning you to send a glare his way before you smiled

“honestly,” hongjoong broke the silence about your big plan, his hands on his head as he leaned back as if he was emptying his thoughts out his ears and you could watch the letters flow out, “the idea isn’t that bad.” he shrugged

your head turned to look st him before the others at the table with your hands up, motioning to hongjoong, “see!” you beamed, “thank you hong-“ before earning a strawberry flung to your forehead that made you huff and curse under your breath

“but!” hongjoong interrupted, setting down the fork he used to aim the strawberry, “it can go horribly wrong and none of us can help you.”

“fuck you.” you retorted

“no thank you.” he replied

wooyoung clapped his hands, leaning forward on his elbows shortly after while he smiled at you, sneaking one of mingi’s fries into his mouth, “anyways! why not just ask seonghwa? he seems a good fit.”

your face scrunched, “seonghwa? you mean the one who i threw up on in high school?“

“yeah!” wooyoung replied with a smile, eyes turning into crescent moons while he had to pause and swallow the snack he snuck away to eat, “see, the two of you have a backstory, your parents would eat it up!”

“just like how seonghwa’s shirt ate up your- ow!” mingi lead on before you elbowed his side to stop him from continuing, erupting a belly laugh from yunho who snacked on his chips

you eyed mingi before turning your attention back to wooyoung, “anyways,” you shook your head, brushing the loose strands of hair out of your face, “no, seonghwa is out of the question.”

“what about me?” yunho voiced with doe sparkling eyes, mouth stuffed with his potato chips that were leaving crumbs on his tee shirt

“yunho, i love you and all, but you would snitch the second we got there or give it away,” you frowned

“true..” he mumbled, a soft smile before turning his attention onto hongjoong who voiced another question

“then who else do you have as an option?”

you paused, eyes wandering while your lips pressed together, fingertips messing with the string of your sweater that swallowed your body, hands warmly held in a makeshift paw

“y/n… i know that look..” hongjoong’s tone was stern and you could hear he was ready to scold you, but your eyes and attention were focused on the one person who had just walked in with a stride, waving and saying hellos to people he passed, bowing and fixing his bag over his shoulder while he made his way to his usual table

hongjoong muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose, “don’t tell me…”

“oh my god! this is hilarious!” wooyoung cackled, clapping his hands, “you want to fake date yeosang?!” he hollered

snapping your head back to your loud friend, face flushed, your hand attempted to swat at him from across the table, “wooyoung! shut your big fat mouth! what if he-“

“i heard my name, all good i hope?” yeosang’s presence and voice made himself known as he stood next to you at the end of the table, your breath hitched in your throat “unless your tongue tasted it, y/n.” his eyes landed on you, the angle making you want to cower and hide, why did he have to effortlessly look so good? was he even human? it made you sick.

mingi dug his spoon into his next snack, amused while he started to put the silverware to his mouth, “oh, her tongue wants to taste something— no! my yogurt!!” when your elbow ‘accidentally’ brushed and hit his spoon out of his hand before he could taste his sweet treat

intrigued, yeosang laughed to himself, “oh? care to elaborate?” he nudged you with his hand to your shoulder, earning a scoff from yourself with reddened ears

“yeosang, just go away-“ you muttered

“no yeosang! sit.” hongjoong interrupted which made your eyes widen, yeosang didn’t need to be told twice either — taking the seat by your betrayer friend.

you mouthed, “i hate you.”

“thank me later.” hongjoong mouthed back with a mischievous smile

three hours of agony and stolen intense glares were how you would describe the rest of the time you spent with your so called friends and yeosang. hands flat on your desk, you hoped the medicine you took was enough for your pounding headache to cease after the loud screeching wooyoung and mingi had done earlier — attempting to recollect your thoughts before you heard your door open and felt your stomach drop with it.

“y/n, a few friends are coming over—oh, why haven’t you packed? we have to go in a few days.” your brother, san’s voice broke through the hiatus of silence that was being held in your room, your body turning with the spinning chair to look at him

“i know, i know” you waved him off, brushing the tips off your fingers and pressing them to your temples to self soothe, “i’ll get to it, okay?” before you paused, arching your brow towards him with a side glance

you snorted, “you have friends?”

san gasped, “yah! i do!” aiming the closest pillow he could reach towards your feet while you laughed

“jesus— okay grumpy, what time are they coming?” you calmed your fit of giggles, stretching out your body and hearing the cracks, “i have to study.”

which wasn’t a complete lie, but not the full truth unless you counted operation kang yeosang to be an exam.

before your brother could reply, from the other room down the hall into the living room, you heard the sound of the front door being both knocked on and kicked in desperation, doorbell ringing along with it and it made you jump up a bit due to the suddenness, “…now??” san dragged his words while you scoffed

“san!!” you groaned

san dodged the pillow you aimed at him, holding a finger heart to you in return while closing your bedroom door, “love you! no promises we won’t be too loud!”

you whined, turning back to face your desk while you heard the muffled yet still loud enough boys enter the home, you muttered under your breath, resting your head down on your arms as if it would make everything go by faster and quieter

eyes slowly opening and closing, you knew you were dozing off, getting ready to slide out of your seat to start looking for pajamas to change into but you couldn’t move after seeeing another figure in your room with you, specifically at your doorframe

how long were you out? did you actually fall asleep? you turned your body to face the figure and wanted to scream, but only your eyes had widened and the eyes that mirrored them

because why was kang yeosang, your bad idea, standing at your bedroom door?

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[dearserenesoul]

Space, Spacious, Headspace

Last night i slept dekat rumah Biing. Quarters for government servant. Quite spacious; 3 rooms, 2 bathrooms, 1 store. Ya Allah, one day if i get to buy a property like this, i'll be bersyukur sangat dah. I dream to have my own personal space like this too, under my name, with my own money <3

Comel je newlywed, baby is otw, duduk rumah cecomel sederhana macam ni. I wont demand much kalau dah jumpa jodoh and awal-awal kahwin macam ni. To have our small home we can decorate together, live together, mula bina hidup sesama dah bahagia sangat dah. A place of our own. Our little home for our little family. InshaAllah, one fine day.

. . .

Sebagai seorang yang masih grieving dan tak tahu dekat stage mana (i think im going back and forth between the stages), today i got new realization & reflection. I had a perception that he sees me as soft spoken manipulator. At first i was like...ehh. Takde lah marah tapi cam..whatt. But now i have new perspective as to what was going on back then. Both from my pov and his.

Before pergi rumah Biing, Kak Long belanja dinner dekat luar. As simple as dinner dekat luar ni made me reflect differently, because of the space around me.

I think i was so much in my head that my narrative, perception & attitude byk sgt problematic. Betul lah, i was so isolated, so indoor, my world mostly was just my bedroom and my screens, my space was too small, i was in worst place for my thesis too, and it affected my experience of us. Codependent big time. Our dynamic was the largest part of my life. While for him, seorang yang berkerja corporate everyday, even sometimes he gets busy sampai lewat malam, battling his mental health issue lagi, definitely his perception was 180° beza from me. I was careless to understand his place properly. We were really on different page, both in life and in our dynamic.

I was so wrong, so codependent and i wasnt aware that i executed misbehaviours that most probably can be perceived as manipulative. I was clingy and expressive. I thought i was being genuine and honest when in fact it can came across as love bombing. I was the one who has crush on him so i operated from this place of lovey dovey, while he was still in the getting to know me phase; who's this girl, what about herself and her life. Our attachment and investment were not the same.

I remember he said to me many times, "kita take it slow okay, temper expectation okay". What i filter thru my ears was: he's not serious, he's unsure, this is one sided, he plays me yada yada. I got mad at him a lot too. For him, having partner is just the last missing piece because he has other commitments and struggles. He used to be so heart broken, he must had wanted to be careful, while i was so anxious and moved too fast.

I dont want to make any conclusion about who he is as a person. Im sure, the way he didnt get to see the version of me with others and he only got to see my worst, i believe its vice versa. So because of this blank spaces, im still hopeful. Betul lah, we can be angel in some stories, but villain in others because every dynamic brings out different version of us. And i still want to give him the benefit of the doubt & cut him some slack. As far as i've dealt with him, i see his good sides as well as his weakness, just like i have both too.

Idk, as my perspective and reflection get wider, internally i can no longer be so sure as to what should i feel and think. Things rarely black and white. But im more clear. Maybe my hope comes from the place where i choose to see the good side and am still curious about what could have become, given i do better for what is in my control. And also, sebab memang takde rasa nak do this thing dengan orang lain lagi. Like, ada orang dia try je with new people kalau ada lil bit interest tu. But for me, it takes more to start again. I need to have spark of feeling for the other party. I'm not doing this thing just because. Even before i made a proper move on him, i took approximately six months to observe him and had few casual conversations to get the rough idea.

I'm still grieving and still taking my time to reflect things, and the most important thing is to focus on myself. In this state of mind and heart, it's very easy to fall into 'damsel in distress' mode and just want to quickly have someone new to 'save' me from this misery. As romantic as it sounds, it's not healthy for myself, as well as unfair for anyone to get involve with me. If i were to start again and i hope it to permanently last, i need to be well prepared and in my good enough shape.

. . .

Although people say that condominium has its own drawbacks, i really appreciate having this wide far view from above. Rasa luas dunia, terasa lapang dada dan headspace. My house is typical housing area. Pandang ke luar tingkap, nampak rumah orang and the view is so limited. Reason why dulu masa undergrad dekat UIA, tiga tahun tu i picked bilik level atas. Rezeki mata dan eye sight.

. . .

Or maybe i just need some time to be redha to let go and utilize every lesson from the past mess to be and do better in the future with someone else.

[stormoftara]

It's time for my anime of the season review! Woo!

Fluffy Paradise: An overworked office worker dies in the entrance of her apartment, which is fairly standard for an isekai. The God grants her a wish for her next life, and this poor woman reminisces about how her parents fluffy cat was the only thing that soothed her soul, wishes for all things fluffy. She is granted this wish when she is reborn in another world into a noble family and all the fuwa fuwa creatures adore her, even a very special tiger. Looks interesting! I like fluffy things 0w0

Sasaki and Peeps: Sasaki is also an overworked office worker. However he doesn't die? He does find himself in a pet store after fantasizing about getting a cat, I mean dog? He really wants that cat. However something calls out to him. He ends up in front of a sparrow, which he buys. This isn't an ordinary bird though, he's actually from another world and got trapped in this world in this bird's body. With Sasaki's help he can travel back to his own world! He's not trapped like most isekai characters, he can travel back and forth. But that's not all and everything gets very chaotic. A strange high school girl with yandere tendencies is his neighbor? He saves a woman and ends up in a strange organization? This show might be good but it feels like it's stretching itself a little thin. I hope that the future episodes slow down a bit! Also this show has a much older protagonist than usual, so I do appreciate that.

Dungeon Meshi: a story that is much like a video game or D&D. (I'm assuming the English name Delicious in Dungeon is playing off the D&D name) There is a mysterious dungeon that holds the One Piece. I mean all the riches. A team of adventurers delve into the dungeon only to be defeated by a red dragon. The reason they did so badly? They were hungry! After going back to rescue one of the character's sister before she can be digested by the dragon, the team decides to (with varying degrees of approval) eat the monsters in the dungeon. A dwarf like man sees them cooking and decides to help out. Mostly because he has way too much info and he really wants to eat a dragon. Ignoring the morals of eating something that's digesting a human, the team sets off. This show is great if you want to learn how to cook completely fictional things. I'm here to learn more about the world building! (I've actually read the manga since I wrote this and there is tons of world-building and all the questions I had were answered!)

Cherry Magic! 30 years of being a Virgin can make you a wizard?!: An actual BL??? If you liked My New Boss is Goofy from last season, you'll like this. Adachi is a virgin who gained a power when he turned 30, he can read people's minds when he touches them. He learns that a coworker likes him, but guess what, that coworker is male! Gasp! I've seen the live action of this and enjoyed it a lot! I do worry because the pacing is at breakneck speed for some reason?

Doctor Elise: The Royal Lady with the Lamp: If you liked Tearmoon Empire from last season and wanted more, this is the anime for you. Elise was killed for her many sins against the empire, along with her whole family. She was reincarnated in our world but decided to amend her ways and become a doctor. However, on her way to an important surgery in Germany, her plane crashes. She is reincarnated again back in her old world. How will she change her fate this time? This show looks great, I enjoy it!

7th Time Loop: The Villainess Enjoys a Life Married to her worst enemy: God these titles are so long. Anyway, very similar to the last anime, Rishe is the Duke's daughter. Her former engagement with the prince is broken off and she's disgraced. Banished from the kingdom, she is forced to travel the world. However, every time she dies she goes back to when her engagement was broken.  In the Sixth Loop she was killed by the prince of an enemy nation. In the Seventh Loop she meets him again, but this time he wants to marry her. What will Rishe do in her new life? Will she be able to survive this time? We'll see!

Mr. Villain's Day Off: The general of an alien army that has invaded Earth is very menacing. But even villains need a day off, and on his days off he loves to go to the zoo. The pandas are just too cute! A slice of life anime about the villains and the rangers who fight them!

Solo Leveling: Jinwoo is the weakest hunter. One day, portals opened around the world with dungeons inside. These dungeons had many dangerous monsters who could escape and wreak havoc. However, at the same time the portals opened, humans gained powers. Those humans are called hunters. Jinwoo goes with a bunch of others into a dungeon that was supposed to be easy. This dungeon has a secret though and its anything but easy. Honestly the first couple episodes should've been combined into one mega episode like how Sasaki and Peeps did. The main point doesn't come until the end of episode 2. I am excited to see more of this and along with Dungeon Meshi I see it being a big hitter of the season.

A Sign of Affection: Yuki is a deaf woman who is attending college. One day on the train, she is having issues communicating with someone who needs directions. A young man named Itsuomi helps her out and she finds herself falling for the world traveling young man. How will their separate worlds collide? I really like this one, it's beautiful and I like the representation!

[kumkaniudaku]

Prompt Request : “I’ve never wanted to lick the buffalo hot wings sauce out of someone’s mouth but here we are.” Reader x Damson Idris 😊

Dating for Damson was complicated. Star power had its drawbacks, and not dating like a normal 30 year old was at the top of the very short list.

He wasn’t afraid of the often talked about gold digger or meeting an overzealous fan. He was terrified of not living up to the expectation many women had concocted on internet forums and in his private messages. As charming as he usually was, the pressure to always entertain was stifling. He just wanted a good time. A chance match on an dating app had him hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.

She was a cute girl. The prompts on her profile painted her as an ambitious geek with a passion for baking and Call of Duty. He doubted the last one, but struck up a conversation solely based on a pair of Prada heels in one of her photos. The words flowed effortlessly for two weeks until she extended the invitation to a mini golf attraction. Standing in front of the building while a Spring chill in Atlanta tried to cool off the muggy evening, he was starting to believe that she’d pulled the greatest vanishing act he’d seen thus far.

“Damson?”

A pleasant Southern drawl caught his attention before bringing him face to face with the woman of the hour.

“Oh wow,” he uttered louder than intended. When her expression showed a bit of confusion, he straightened up and extended his hand. “I meant, yes. Damson. Alicia, right?”

“Yeah. Sorry to keep you waiting. Did you get my text?”

Confusion came before his embarrassment. Had he carried both of his phones, he likely would’ve received what ever explanation she’d sent. But the absence of his business phone killed any chance of that.

“Uh, no. I left my other phone at my place and-”

“Damn, I’m in the fake phone? We startin’ on the wrong foot already,” she laughed. When Damson let off an awkward chuckle in response, she gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m joking. If we’re gonna be out tonight, you gotta loosen up. I didn’t touch up these braids for nothin’.”

“Oh so, that’s why you were late? And here I was cancelling my hair appointment to be on time for you!”

Their shared laughter rang out in the crowded parking garage, drawing attention that only made them laugh harder.

Easy energy kept the conversation light as Damson and Alicia rolled through rounds of indoor mini golf. Her competitive streak led to back and forth tales of their days as athletes between lessons on British slang. For the first time in over a year, Damson felt comfortable enough to drop pieces of his public persona and slip into a more comfortable version of himself. Talking to her felt like second nature. Each corny joke and song lyric reference had him wondering what she’d be like on date two, three or more.

“So, how you likin’ the city?” Alicia asked after wiping hot wing sauce from her mouth for the 100th time.

“Eh, it’s alright. It’s not Peckham or LA, but it’ll do.”

Alicia studied Damson’s sideways grin before rolling her eyes. “You like seeing me fired up, huh?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because ain’t no way you’d blaspheme my hometown and not think that I won’t pipe up.”

“Ooh, pipe up. I’ll add that to my Urban Dictionary research list.” He watched her roll her eyes again with a laugh. “One thing I will say is that wings here are top 10 in the world.”

“If we don’t do nothing else, we gone fry and sauce a wing! Stick around long enough and I’ll take you for some at one our local gourmet establishments.”

“Local gourmet? Is this a steakhouse or…”

“I’m sure they can throw a steak on for you down at The Flame or Magic.”

“The Fla…” Damson’s voice trailing made Alicia giddy with anticipation while he slowly came to a slow realization. “You’re trying to take me to a strip club.”

“And a couple other places if tonight goes as planned.”

The pair shared bashful stares across the table before diverting to get a look at their surroundings. Damson felt the long forgotten flutter or butterflies in his gut and chuckled at himself. Feeling for a random dating app link wasn’t in the plan. But Alicia felt like a change of pace that he was willing to explore.

“So, we sh-”

“Is it cool if I-”

Laughter took over the conversation to cover their embarrassing blunder.

Damson nodded to give Alicia the go ahead. “Ladies first.”

Alicia released a shaky breath to steady the words on the tip of her tongue before speaking. The corners of her mouth turned up into a flirtatious smile.

“Look, I don’t believe in beating around the bush. I’ve been thinking about kissing you all night. And I feel like we’re on the same page about that the way you keep looking at my lips, but let me know if I’m wrong about that.”

“I have been looking at your lips,” Damson admitted. “But mainly because you are smashing those wings and you have sauce all over your mouth.”

Alicia’s face morphed into a horrified expression while she rushed to get a look at her lips in her phone’s camera. Before she could finish the motion, Damson carefully gripped her wrist.

“I didn’t say entirely. I’ve never wanted to lick the buffalo hot wings sauce from someone’s mouth before, but here we are.”

The world around them seemed to slow as they searched for reassurance in each other’s eyes. A tentative move forward from Alicia led Damson to mirror her actions until there lips met and electricity made them tingle from head to toe.

Damson was the first to break the kiss and smile.

“Okay so, there are two things I like about Atlanta.”

[myaimistrue]

my gift for the wonderful @lotsofquestionslimitedanswers as part of the @starrynightdeancas gift exchange! i hope you love this sweet bit of fluff as much as i loved writing it <3

also available on ao3

Cas has fought celestial battles. He has seen the rise and fall of human civilizations, he has razed cities and healed kings, and he has been the only thing outside of God’s control. Yet somehow, someway, he is being bested by a pan of scrambled eggs.

He lets out a string of curses he would never have even dreamed of fifteen years prior, and carefully carries the smoking pan to the trash can. He dumps as much of the blackened lump as he can unceremoniously into the trash can and sticks the pan, still coated in bits of burned eggs, back on the stove.

Cas is trying to make breakfast to bring to Dean in bed. He’s doing okay, he thinks, except now there just won’t be any eggs. Or pancakes. (Cas actually thought the batter turned out pretty nicely, but when he went to pour the first bit into the pan, his hand slipped—he spent a good twenty minutes cleaning all of that up.) At least there’s still bacon. Shit, the bacon!

Cas rips the oven open, still cursing, and just barely remembers to put an oven mitt on before he pulls the pan out. Thank God, the bacon is on just the right side of burnt, sizzling and crispy but not blackened yet. He breathes a sigh of relief, and sets the pan down carefully beside the other on the stove. Well, Dean’s always enjoyed bacon the most—if breakfast is just that, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

Cas figures he can at least make some toast to go with it. Unfortunately, he forgot to buy more bread at the store yesterday, so there are only three pieces left, two of which are end pieces. He toasts them all, gnawing on a thumbnail and trying to convince himself that Dean won’t hate all of this.

Cas has only been back, free from the Empty and fully human, for a month. It’s been a good month, mostly, full of reunions and laughter and slowly but surely figuring things out. He and Dean share a bed now, share a life in a way they never did before, and it’s good. Cas is learning to be human again, and every step of the way, Dean is with him, endlessly patient and gentle with all of it, seemingly happy just to be with him at all. And Cas gets to kiss Dean when he wants, gets to hold his hand and brush his fingertips along the crinkles at the corners of Dean’s eyes, and every day, he gets to tell Dean he loves him. 

The only problem, really, is that Dean hasn’t said it back yet.

Cas knows Dean loves him. It’s clear now—it was clear from the moment he stumbled out of the Empty and into Dean’s trembling arms—and Cas understands that Dean shows it in different ways than words. He shows it in the way he sat with Cas for an hour helping him learn to tie his shoes, the way he makes PB&Js without complaint whenever Cas requests them, the way he slides his hand into Cas’s while driving and runs his thumb back and forth along Cas’s palm. Regardless of whether he says it out loud, Dean loves Cas with such ferocity that Cas sometimes worries he can’t match it. 

So Cas is doing what he can: he’s making breakfast in bed.

He arranges the limited food on an old wooden tray, along with two mugs of steaming coffee and a jar of Dean’s favorite apricot jelly that he did remember at the store. Cas studies his handiwork critically, then adds a few napkins (amidst all the change, Dean remains a very messy eater). The end result looks nice, Cas thinks. Better than he worried it might, at least.

Slowly, carefully, Cas makes his way out of the kitchen, and to the bedroom he now shares with Dean. The door is cracked from when Cas left earlier, and he can see the corner of the bed, the way Dean’s pulled all the blankets over to his side. Cas smiles at how familiar that’s become lately—it seems that with the luxury of his own bed, Dean is loath to share the covers; Cas steals them back all night long, but it works out because Dean puts up with his kicking. 

He creeps in and sets the tray down on his bedside table. Then, unable to resist, he slips back under the covers and wraps his arms around Dean. Dean stirs somewhat awake, and wiggles back into Cas with a satisfied hum. 

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean says sleepily. “Where’ve you been? ’S early.”

“Uh, I was…” Cas glances back at breakfast, and he thinks it looks measly now, small and poorly put together. “I made breakfast. For you to eat in bed.”

“...You made me breakfast in bed?”

“Yeah,” Cas says quietly, tucking his face in Dean’s neck, enjoying the closeness but also trying to hide his embarrassment. “Is that okay?”

“What? ‘Course it is.” Dean sounds like he’s smiling, and Cas can see it in his mind’s eye, that dreamy thing that only comes out when Dean is extremely relaxed. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet,” Cas says, testing the way the word feels in his mouth.

“Yeah.” Dean’s still half-asleep, unfiltered and unencumbered in a way he rarely is, even now. “You’re real sweet to me, Cas. Always are.”

“Even though the breakfast isn’t good?”

“What?”

Cas sighs. “I messed up the pancakes and the eggs, and there wasn’t enough bread. It doesn’t look good like it does when you make breakfast.”

“I don’t care about that,” Dean says, a little more awake, his voice sure and strong. “I’d eat concrete if you made it for me.”

At that, Cas feels the knots in his stomach begin to unwind, feels his heartbeat slow to match Dean’s. He kisses the back of Dean’s neck, lips lingering on sleep-warm skin. Dean shifts closer.

“We’d better get up,” Dean murmurs. “Don’t want the coffee to get cold.”

“Or the bacon.”

“You made bacon?” Dean sits straight up in bed, sniffing around in the air like a bloodhound and apparently completely awake. Cas rolls his eyes and flops over into the warm spot he left behind, pulling the covers up and over himself again. “I can’t believe I didn’t smell that. Damn, Cas. You outdid yourself.”

“I don’t know about that,” Cas says. He peeks around the blankets as Dean grabs the tray and settles it over his legs eagerly. “It’s not—”

“Oh hell yeah!” Dean looks down at him with a brilliant smile that seems to make everything else around them go dim. “You got the apricot jelly stuff?”

“Yeah.” One thing Cas had done right. “I picked some up at the store the other day. I know it’s your favorite.”

Inexplicably, Dean’s ears go red. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Of course.” Cas sits up and studies Dean’s face like he has for years. Dean’s expression is a little difficult to read, but he’s still smiling. Cas feels himself start to smile, too. “So this is okay? You like it?”

“Dude.” Dean looks at him incredulously, but it’s good-natured, fond. “You’re as bad as me. I’m telling you, this is great. I don’t think I’ve ever had breakfast in bed before. And it’s…” Dean goes red again, this time all the way to the apples of his cheeks, but he continues on valiantly. “Nobody’s ever done the shit you do for me. And I’m so fucking lucky, it’s ridiculous, and I…” The hush of their bedroom seems to grow, to expand, as Dean glances at the tray then back at Cas with some huge emotion behind his eyes. “I love you.”

Cas blinks. “You—”

“I love you.” Dean says again.

“You love me,” Cas repeats breathlessly. He knew it would come eventually, he did, but this—this is worth the wait.

“I love you.” Dean laughs like he can’t quite believe it, like he’s so happy it’s ridiculous, it’s impossible. “Holy shit, there it is. I said it. I love you. You made me breakfast in bed, and I fucking love you.”

Cas surges up, unable to hold himself back any longer. He takes Dean’s face in his hands and kisses him as deeply as he can, as deeply as he’s ever wanted to. Dean is surprised at first, but meets Cas in the middle like he always does, takes what Cas gives him and then takes some more. They only separate when the tray is in danger of tipping all of their breakfast over onto the floor.

“Let’s eat first?” Dean says sheepishly. “And drink the coffee?”

Cas’s face hurts from how hard he’s smiling. “Yeah. Okay.”

So they sit side-by-side in bed on top of the covers, sharing bacon and toast, sipping coffee between secret little smiles, and Cas relishes every bit of it, every human moment. He watches Dean chew, enraptured by the image he makes: the sunlight behind his head a halo, the holiness of his soft grey shirt and sleep-mussed hair, and all of it, eclipsed the golden shine of a soul Cas can no longer see but can feel—even in his humanity, he knows he can feel it. 

“I love you,” Cas says.

And when Dean says it back, his face is more beautiful than anything in heaven.

[doctenwho]

Hangovers, Love and Space Vodka (PE Pt. 2)

Hello! Requests are definitely open, even if I’m awfully slow! I feel bad at how slow these are coming out especially since there’s so many in waiting, but writing just hasn’t been on the table recently. Apologies for that!

But I’ve found the time and the motivation, so I decided to get this done! Thank you for your patience! This is such a cute idea, and it always makes me happy that people like the first parts enough to request a continuation. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you readers like it too! 

So, please enjoy the continuation of Purest Expression (also, you should probably read that one if you haven’t already, this fic heavily references it!) Also, I just thought the name was funny and I was in desperate need for one, so feel free to suggest others if you’ve got one!

Warnings: Talk of alcohol, but no drinking!

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the talented creator!)

You didn’t really remember a lot when you woke up. All you really knew was you'd drank far too much of that delicious cocktail, and that your brain was pounding in your head. This was quite possibly one of the worst hangovers you’d had, but honestly, you’d do it all over again to have another one of those space cocktails.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your hands to cover your eyes in an attempt to block out what little light managed to stream into the room. Your stomach churned at the movement, but it settled out easily enough after you didn’t move a muscle for a few minutes following your roll.  

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.  

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.  

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.  

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.  

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.  

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.  

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.  

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.  

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it’s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.  

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.  

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.  

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.  

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.  

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.  

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.  

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.  

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.  

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.  

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.  

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.  

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.  

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.  

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.  

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.  

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.  

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.  

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.  

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.  

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.  

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.  

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”  

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.  

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”  

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.  

<><><><>

Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

I’ll try to keep up with the prompts but idk how well I’ll be able to manage between life and the other works in other fandoms. Anyways, hope you have a great morning/day/night!

[lumosandnoxwriting]

No Returns or Exchanges - Fred Weasley

Title: No Returns or Exchanges Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred and Y/N get to start their happily ever after A/N: this is for @mrs-fredweasley​. I usually do my requests in the order I receive them, but she asked for some fluff with Fred and the reader getting married and having kids for her birthday, and since she’s my birthday twin I couldn’t resist! Feedback is always welcome and requests are open!

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

“There you are, Mrs. Weasley,” Fred greets as he sneaks up behind Y/N and wraps his arms around her waist.

“I’m not Mrs. Weasley quite yet, Freddie,” Y/N teases as she turns around in his embrace. Her arms wind around Fred’s neck and she pulls him in for a brief kiss. “You’re about twelve hours too early.”

Fred starts to slowly sway them back and forth, humming quietly to the music drifting through the air from the large tent behind them. Fred and Y/N aren’t getting married until tomorrow, but Ginny, Y/N’s maid of honor, insisted on mixing some muggle wedding traditions in alongside the regular wizard ones. Tonight, had been what Ginny referred to as the rehearsal dinner, where the wedding party and their close family went through the ceremony that will take place tomorrow, before having a mini celebration together.

“Do I really have to go home without you?” Fred pouts. Another muggle tradition Ginny insisted on was that Y/N and Fred would not be allowed to see each other until Y/N was heading down the aisle towards him.

Y/N giggles and kisses Fred’s pout away. “I think it’ll be romantic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, isn’t that what they say?” Y/N rolls her eyes playfully when Fred frowns at her. “Oh, come on, Freddie. It’s only one night apart.”

“When’s the last time we spent more than 1 hour apart outside of work?” Fred ask, looking down at Y/N expectantly. When she doesn’t answer he smiles. “Exactly. One night is going to feel like an eternity.”

“Okay so maybe it’ll be a bit hard,” Y/N concedes. “But after tomorrow we’ll get to spend every day for the rest of eternity together, that’s gotta be worth it, isn’t it? And have you forgotten that we’ll be spending the next two weeks completely alone together in a cabin in the woods.”

“How can I forget about that?” Fred muses. “Just me, you, and as little clothing as possible for two weeks straight. That’s the only kind of honeymoon I want.” Most of their friends and family were surprised that Fred and Y/N didn’t want to go on some adventurous honeymoon but wanted to just relax together in some secluded forest. But for them that seemed like the only option. It’s only been 13 months since the war ended, and after Fred’s near-death experience he and Y/N decided to take life slow for a bit.

“So that’s why you wanted to go somewhere secluded,” Y/N says, realization washing over her.

Fred laughs. “I may have had ulterior motives when I convinced you to book the cabin in the woods over the beach house.”

Y/N shakes her head fondly. “You’re a bit of a menace, you know that?”

“Yeah but I’m your menace. And you’re way past the return or exchange date so you’re stuck with me,” he jokes, leaning down to press a kiss to Y/N’s forehead.

“Oi, lover boy!” George calls from behind them. Y/N and Fred break apart so they can look at him. “Ginny says it’s time to go, and she’s already wacked me over the head once so get your arse over here before she does it again.”

“See you tomorrow?” Fred asks as he leans down to kiss Y/N briefly.

“Meet you at the altar,” she confirms with a smile.

-

“You sure you wanna marry my brother?” Ginny teases as they get ready to walk down the aisle. “Because I could cause a distraction if you wanna slip out the front door and run away.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and grabs the bouquet Ginny hands her.  “Ha, ha. Very funny, Gin.”

Ginny beams at her before taking her place in line. Y/N takes a deep breath as the music starts, silently regretting that she chose to not have her dad walk her down the aisle. A few months ago, she had bashed the archaic notion of someone giving her away to Fred as if she were a piece of property, but as nerves start to bubble in her stomach she wishes she had someone by her side to calm her down. Everyone in front of her starts to slowly head towards the alter, and she fixes her dress one last time before she follows behind Ginny.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” Fred whispers as she takes his hands at the altar. There are tears in his eyes, and a few leak down his cheeks. “You’re absolutely stunning.”

Y/N blushes, trying to blink away her own tears as to not ruin her makeup. “You clean up quite nice as well, Freddie.”

Fred smiles down at her, maintaining eye contact as the official from the ministry starts the ceremony. Fred squeezes Y/N’s hands tightly as he talks, only half paying attention to what he’s saying. His thoughts are completely consumed with Y/N and how breathtakingly beautiful she is. The dress she picked out compliments all of her best features, and the veil cascading down her shoulders makes her look like a goddess. Fred has imagined this day over a dozen times since he proposed last year, but everything he thought of pales in comparison to how beautiful Y/N looks right now.

“Can I have the rings?” the officiant asks, pulling Fred’s thoughts fully to the ceremony. George digs around in his pocket for a moment before handing the delicate silver rings to the man. He hands the smaller one to Fred. “Now it’s my understanding that the bride and groom have prepared their own vows?” When Fred and Y/N nod, he smiles and motions for Fred to start.

“Y/N, I’ve been enamored with you since I was 11 years old, when you made your cauldron blow up and covered Snape head to toe in the worst smelling goo I’ve ever encountered – and that’s saying something,” Fred pauses as everyone chuckles, and he starts to slide the ring down Y/N’s finger. “When you agreed to accompany me to Hogsmeade during third year I felt like the luckiest guy in the world and I still do. I was so nervous, I had no idea how I managed to convince the pretties girl in school to go out with me, and all these years later I have no idea how I convinced you to marry me. But like I said last night, there’s no returns or exchanges you’re stuck with me for good now.”

Fred slides the ring down Y/N’s finger until it meets her engagement ring. “You’ve stuck by me through every risk I’ve taken and every dumb idea that’s popped into my mind. You were one of the first people to support my dream of opening the joke shop with George, and you were there to support me every step of the way. Every late-night George and I had planning things out or developing products you were right there with me, usually you were asleep, but it was still nice to have you there. You were always the first person to volunteer to test out a product and you were always there for me to vent to when something didn’t work out. You pushed me to leave school early with George, and once you moved in with us you were always there to snuggle with me after a long day.”

Fred takes a deep breath and brings one of his hands up to wipe away the tears Y/N has started to shed. “You gave up so much of your life to be there for me after I was crushed by that wall. No matter how hard I tried to get you to go back to work or just leave the house in general. You’ve always shown me unconditional love and support, and that’s what I’m promising to show you for the rest of our lives. No matter how crazy or hard or scary life gets, I’ll be there by your side, loving you and helping you through it.”

By the time the officiant is pronouncing them husband and wife, both Fred and Y/N are openly crying, but as they share their first kiss as husband and wife, neither of them really cares.

-

“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” Fred greets with a smile as Y/N pushes the door to his office open. He pushes away from his desk slightly and pats his lap.

“Me too, I hate throwing up,” Y/N responds, taking a seat on Fred’s lap. She settles in and presses a kiss to his cheek. “How’s work going today, husband?” she asks with a giggle. They’ve been married for just over two months, and it still gives Y/N butterflies every time she refers to Fred as her husband.

Fred rolls his eyes and grabs Y/N’s face so he can press a kiss to her lips. “It’s been quite busy today wife. The restock of the new whizbang line already sold out.” Fred settles his hands on Y/N’s hips and kisses her again. “What about you? What have you been getting up to on your day off?”

“I had breakfast with Ginny and Hermione. Did some shopping,” she says casually pointing towards the bags she dropped near the door. “Nothing too crazy or exciting.”

Fred’s eyes light up at the sight of the bags. “Shopping, hm? Did you happen to pick up a present for your lovely, adorable, adoring husband while you were out?” he asks hopefully.

“Maybe,” Y/N muses with a wink. “You’ll have to wait until after work to find out.” Y/N giggles as Fred frowns and she kisses him one last time before standing up.

“You’re such a tease,” he scolds as Y/N gathers the bags in her hand.

“I know.” She waves at Fred and blows him a kiss before heading back into the joke shop and upstairs to their flat. They’re still living with George for the time being as they save up for a house, and as Y/N places her shopping bags on the bed she starts to wonder if they’ll have to start looking for one sooner rather than later.

Y/N sticks her hand in one of the bags and fumbles around a bit, humming as her hands closes around a rectangular cardboard box. Her hand shakes slightly as she pulls the pregnancy test out and starts to familiarize herself with the instructions. While her and Fred have already come to the conclusion that they both want a house full of children someday, she never imagined that they may be starting their family so soon after their wedding.

“Now or never,” Y/N mutters to herself as she heads towards the bathroom. Y/N thought they had been careful while on their honeymoon, she knows there were a few times they had forgotten to use the contraceptive charm in the heat of the moment, but she figured it would be okay. However, when her period never came she began to suspect that they weren’t in fact okay, and the random nausea spells she’s been having for the past week seemed to only solidify that fact.

After she’s closed and locked the door behind her, Y/N does what she needs to do and sets the pregnancy test on the counter face down. “Who knew three minutes could feel like a lifetime?” she asks to no one as she watches the time go by on her watch. When the three minutes is finally up Y/N’s hand starts to shake again as she reaches for the stick. She shuts her eyes tightly as she flips it over, and after a few deep breaths she finally takes a peek.

Pregnant.

Y/N starts to cry as a whirlwind of emotions flow through her. On one hand she’s so overwhelmingly happy, being a mother is something she’s always wanted and to be doing it with Fred makes her heart burst with joy. But she can’t help but also feel an intense bout of worry flowing through her. She and Fred are only 21, and they haven’t even been married six months yet. Y/N knows that Fred wants to be a dad, but she can’t help but worry that he’ll think this is a bad thing and that it’s far too soon for them to become parents.

“Hey, love. You left one of your bags downstairs,” Fred calls out as he walks through the door.

Y/N furiously wipes away her tears and sticks the pregnancy test in the back pocket of her jeans. She takes a deep breath and opens the bathroom door, jumping slightly when she sees Fred. “You scared me, Freddie. I didn’t hear you come down the hall.”

Fred frowns at her. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?” When Y/N nods he gives her a look. “Were you throwing up again? You’re all pale, love. Are you sure we shouldn’t go see a muggle doctor or a healer or something?”

“I’m fine, love,” Y/N reassures, pushing past Fred. She starts to head down the hall when she feels Fred’s hand brush her ass. “What are you- oh,” she gasps, turning around to face Fred. He’s staring down at the pregnancy test in his hands. “Fred,” Y/N starts, not really sure what to say.

“Is this what I think it is?” Fred murmurs, looking up at Y/N. He grips the test in his hand tightly, tears starting to form in his eyes. “You’re pregnant?”

Y/N nods slowly as she bites her lip. “Yeah, I am.” Fred falls to his knees and brings Y/N close to him, shoving her shirt up a little. He starts to pepper kisses all over her warm skin, laughing as Y/N starts to giggle and squirm. “Fred! Fred stop that tickles!”

Fred presses one final kiss to her stomach before he stands up and kisses Y/N passionately. “I can’t believe you’re pregnant. I can’t believe we’re gonna have a baby.” Fred lets go of Y/N and starts to head towards the door. “I have to go tell George.”

“Freddie, wait,” Y/N calls with a laugh, chasing after him. She closes her hand around his wrist and pulls him back towards her. “You’re not mad? Or upset?”

Fred gives Y/N a look like she’s crazy. “Upset? Mad? Why would I be any of those things? You know I want to be a dad, love. We’ve talked about this before.”

“I dunno,” Y/N shrugs. “We’re young and we haven’t been married for that long. I just thought you wouldn’t think it’s the right time.”

Fred sighs and comes back towards Y/N, wrapping her up in a hug. “Love I don’t care about any of that. So, what we’ve only been married for two months? We’ve been as good as married since we were 18 when you first moved in here.” Fred presses a kiss to her forehead and smiles down at her. “Besides if we’re gonna have enough kids to fill a quidditch team we need to have them young, I can’t be an old man teaching my kids how to fly,” he jokes with a laugh.

“A whole quidditch team?” Y/N asks. When Fred gives her a wink Y/N rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you Fred Weasley.”

-

“Fred what are you doing?” Y/N murmurs around a yawn. She started to wake up after a warm heavy weight rested on her stomach, and when she finally opened her eyes she saw Fred half hanging off the bed as he laid on his front. He’d pushed her shirt up and his head is hovering over the swell of her stomach while his hand strokes it lightly.

“Talking to the baby,” he responds, as if the answer is obvious.

Y/N shifts so she’s laying on her elbows so that she can look down at him properly. “At 2 am?”

Fred nods, pressing a light kiss to her skin. “I couldn’t sleep. And I read in that muggle book Hermione gave us last week that the baby can hear things now, so I figured I’d try it out.”

Y/N chuckles brings a hand up to rub her stomach. “Well I think the baby likes the sound of your voice, they’ve been moving like crazy.” Early last week Y/N had started to feel the baby move around inside of her. The first time it happened it scared the shit out of her, but now she’s started to miss it when the baby is still.

“Really?” Fred asks, his eyes lighting up. The movements Y/N has been feeling are still far too light for Fred to feel from the outside, but every night he spends hours rubbing her bump to try and feel something.

“Yeah, really. My ribs have become a punching bag.” Y/N smiles as the baby lands a few kicks to her stomach. “Here, gimme your hand.

Fred gives Y/N the hand that isn’t already on her stomach, watching as she places it on the side of her bump. She presses his hand into her skin, and he holds his breath, hoping to feel something. “Holy shit,” he gasps as the skin beneath his hand moves ever so slightly. Fred watches his hand in awe, smiling as it moves lightly with each movement. “That’s so cool.”

Y/N laughs and lets go of Fred’s hand so she can run her hand through his hair. “Innit? Though it does feel kinda weird that it’s like, coming from inside of me. But it’s nice. Like I’m never alone.”

“Hey little one,” Fred coos against Y/N’s skin, pressing down against her stomach as he feels the baby kick him in response. “I’m your Daddy, and I can’t wait to meet you.” Fred presses a kiss to Y/N’s skin and tears form in his eyes when he feels a small movement against his mouth. “I know your Mummy is doing such an amazing job of growing you in there but hurry up and get out of there so I can hold you and play with you and kiss you and cuddle you.” Fred tears his eyes away from Y/N’s bump so he can wink at his wife. “Plus, the sooner you get out of there the sooner Daddy can give you a sibling.”

Y/N scoffs and flicks Fred on the forehead. “Can we finish making this one before you start planning the next?”

“What? There’s no harm in planning ahead,” he teases, crawling up the bed to kiss Y/N sweetly.

-

“Hi there little bug,” Fred coos, gently rocking his newborn daughter. She’s only a few hours old, and her big eyes are bright as she blinks up at Fred. “I’m your Daddy and I love you so much Miss Ellie belly.”  Her actual name is Electra, but Fred has settled on calling her Ellie. Y/N had found her name in a baby book Hermione dropped off, and they both instantly fell in love with it. It means bright one, and after the dark times Fred and Y/N had survived in order to bring her into the world it seemed like the perfect fit.

Fred presses a kiss to her forehead, his heart melting as she makes a little noise. “You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers. “Just don’t tell Mummy I said that.”

“Maybe you should check to make sure Mummy is asleep before you start spilling your secrets,” Y/N responds with a laugh.

Fred turns around, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry, love. I figured you’d be a goner after the past few days you’ve had.”

Y/N moves over to make room for Fred and pats the space next to her. “I was only in labor for what 36 hours? That’s nothing,” she says with a laugh.

Fred comes over and sits next to Y/N, cradling Ellie tightly against his chest. “Don’t downplay yourself, love. You’re an absolute superhero.” He begrudgingly passes the baby back to Y/N and wraps an arm around her, his other hand coming up to grab Ellie’s foot through the blanket she’s wrapped up in. “We wouldn’t have our perfect little angel without you.”

Y/N blushes, looking over at Fred. “You helped a little bit. And I did nearly break your hand while I was pushing.”

“Aw, Y/N. You flatter me,” Fred teases. He presses a kiss to her temple and takes a moment to just watch as Y/N cuddles Ellie close. “I didn’t know I could love something this much,” Fred says quietly, crying slightly for the second time that day. The first had been when the doctor placed Ellie in his arms for the first time. “But every time I look at her my heart feels like it’s going to burst from how much love is in it.”

“I know, right? Every time I look at her I feel like crying. She’s just so tiny and perfect and ours.” Y/N leans down and presses a kiss to Ellie’s forehead. “I almost can’t believe that we made her. I don’t know how you and I could make something so beautiful.”

Fred gently grabs Y/N’s chin and turns her head so he can kiss her passionately. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world, so it is no surprise that our daughter is the most beautiful little girl in the world.” Fred kisses Y/N again briefly, before letting go of her chin so he can stroke Ellie’s cheek. “How are you feeling, love? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m alright, Freddie, thank you,” Y/N says softly, looking back down at their daughter. “I actually feel really good. To be honest your Mum scared me a bit, I thought it would be way worse.”

Fred chuckles, melting as Ellie’s eyes flutter closed. “I think Healers have revolutionized childbirth in the twenty years it’s been since she had a baby.” He bites his lip, nudging Y/N so she’ll look at him. “So now that this one’s out, when can we start trying for number 2?”

-

“Y/N love, I’m home!” Fred calls, stepping out of their fireplace and into the living room. He dusts the ashes from his suit, frowning when his wife doesn’t answer him immediately. But it turns into a smile when he spots his daughter peering at him over top of her play pen.

“Ellie,” he coos, heading over to her. “Look at you, standing up on your own!” he praises, lifting her out and up into the air. He tosses her up gently, laughing as she giggles madly at him. “Where’s your Mummy?” he asks, settling the infant on his hip. He presses a kiss to her forehead, his stomach turning to mush when she cuddles into his chest. “Let’s go find her then, hm?”

Fred starts to explore the house, grinning as Ellie babbles baby nonsense into his skin. He can’t believe how fast the past 8 months have gone, and while he loves watching Ellie grow and learn new things, he misses the baby stage already. “What do you think Mummy’s doing?” he asks, nodding along to her babbles as if she’s actually answering him. “I think she might be hiding to scare Daddy. What do you think?”

After checking their downstairs Fred starts to head up the stairs, his fingers lightly digging into Ellie’s belly to tickle her. She shrieks with laughter, and it sounds like music in Fred’s ears. “Daddy misses you while he’s at work, Miss Ellie belly. I think I should take you with me tomorrow. What do you think? Do you wanna spend the day with Daddy and Uncle George at the joke shop?”

Fred peppers kisses to Ellie’s head as he walks down the hallway. The door to his and Y/N’s room is shut and as he goes to grab the doorknob it swings open and Y/N practically runs into him.

“Oh, Fred,” she gasps, holding something to her chest. “I didn’t hear you come in, love.” Fred eyes her wearily as Y/N leans forward to tickle Ellie’s stomach with her free hand and press kisses to her chubby cheeks. “Is your Daddy home, Miss Ellie? Did Daddy finally come home to see you?” she asks, laughing as Ellie giggles at her.

“What’s in your hand?” Fred asks.

Y/N looks up at him, trying to seem as innocent as possible. “Nothing,” she responds, showing him the hand that was on Ellie’s stomach.

Fred rolls his eyes playfully. “The other one, gorgeous.”

“Oh, um,” Y/N blushes and looks away from Fred as she takes her hand from her chest and opens her palm. A positive pregnancy test is laying in her hand, staring up at Fred.

Fred gasps. “Another one?”

Y/N nods and snuggles into Fred’s chest as he pulls her into a hug with his free hand. “Dunno why you’re so surprised, you’ve been trying to get me pregnant since Ellie was born.”

Fred laughs and leans down to kiss Y/N deeply. “Guess it’s time to start thinking about the next one then,” he teases.

Y/N glares at Fred. “Are you sure it’s not too late to return or exchange you?”

“Sorry love, I burned the receipt long ago,” Fred responds with a laugh, kissing Y/N again.

[bakugohoex]

could you do "you think that waiter could make you cum the way i do" with bakugo katsuki?

“you think that waiter could make you cum the way i do”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw:  aged up, fluff, domesticity at the end, talks about pregnancy, nsfw (Minors DNI, nipple play, jaw grabbing, fingering, kissing, biting and marking, breeding kink, unprotected car sex, degradation, praise, daddy kink, exhibitionism, spit kink), use of the word mommy in a pregnancy way.

word count: 2,000+

a/n: ria writing for once i know it’s a shock, but here you go some nsfw bakugo

summary: in which after having a dinner date with bakugo, his irritation at how the waiter seems just a bit too close to you, he can’t help but take you right back to his car, ready to show you who’s really in charge

1k event masterlist

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

Ten fucking minutes, ten fucking minutes and the waiter still stayed by your table, he couldn’t help but glare, couldn’t help but look the man up and down in disgust at his girl. But worst of all, you were entertaining it, with your hushed tones and the way your breasts almost spilt out of your teensy dress Bakugo had chucked at you to wear. It was for him though, not for some stupid waiter, it was supposed to be all his but now here he was watching as you stared at the man laughing at another one of his pathetic jokes.

“A fan, that’s so sweet, I’m sure Bakugo won’t mind us talking for a bit longer, right Katsuki.” He saw that smirk, saw the way you toyed with the bow that rested against your chest to make both of the men stared there. 

Bakugo leant back on his chair, taking a long swing of his drink. His shirt partially unbuttoned as the suit jacket fitted each inch of his muscle clad body, you expected a reaction of anger. But instead he nodded letting you have your fun, “I can’t stop you.” 

It was a grimace but the way you just coyly acted stupid as if you didn’t see the malice in his tone, he continued to lean back, legs spread as he stared at his drink. “You really are gorgeous in real life; the articles were true.”

Bakugo saw you giggle, heard you smack the waiter's arm as you laughed at the comment, that was the final straw for him, the final act that had made him finally decide to end this game, “don’t want an autograph from the number one hero.”

He looked up at the man, arms up against the table as the man finally stared at the man, “I...I...of course I’d loved one.” The waiter felt shell shocked, he knew you and Bakugo were out on a date but the way Bakugo spoke with fury under his calm tone made him shiver. 

The waiter passed the paper and pen, Bakugo taking it as he seemed to be writing some long message, finally signing his name as he handed it back. “Come closer” Bakugo crossed his arms as you stared confused at how the waiter came down to Bakugo, Bakugo whispering in his ear.

The waiter’s face became paler at the sight of what he was hearing, “she’s even more attractive with my cum stuffed inside of her, something you’ll never get to experience, now fuck off be...before i kill you.”

You saw the discarded paper which seemed to only have Bakugo’s name on it but the way the waiter stood frozen in front of your table. Unable to move after hearing Bakugo’s threat, Bakugo eyed you up and down, “come on.”

“Where are we going?”

He doesn’t answer, instead taking your stuff in his hand and putting his hand out, the waiter got out of his gaze watching how you gave him an apologetic look knowing Bakugo probably threatened him. “Get up.”

You take his hand, his grip tightening as he drags you out of the restaurant, cold wind attacking your skin as he pushes you towards his car. Instead of taking you into the front seat, you find yourself in the back, the car being in an empty parking spot as he stared at you with lust. 

“All fun and games isn’t it sweetheart, think you could really show off what’s mine to that pathetic waiter.” His hands began roaming your body as he had let your back lean against the back, his arms surrounding you as he kept you firmly in place. He was almost glad there was enough room in his car to fuck his pretty girl senseless. “Think that waiter could make you cum the  way I do.” It wasn’t a question but the way you tried to answer made Bakugo even more needy to show you who was in charge.

“I…” You tried to speak but his fingers moving to your hardened nipples made you mewl at his touch. 

His fiery eyes looked down at you, wanting and needing to have you all, “try again sweetheart,” his voice seemed calmer, but you knew what was to come. You knew that your next actions were detrimental in how the next half an hour would go. 

“I’m so...sorry daddy.”

“See that wasn’t hard, open up.” His hand moved to grip your jaw forcing it open as you heard him gather his spit up before shooting it right down your throat, his hand firm on your jaw, watching how his spit mixed with your own saliva. It was a beautiful sight as he stuck his finger right on top of your tongue, “you’re going to do as you're told, going to be a good little slut and swallow every piece of me.”

You knew what his words meant, knew what was going to occur, swallowing not only him but yourself in this process. “I...I’ll be good daddy.”

He nodded as his let go of your jaw watching you swallow him all before his mouth attached to your own. It was fast paced, spit and saliva mixing as you could feel him sloppily kiss down your mouth, your jaw and right down to your next where he started making marks. His hands moved to your dress, sliding the straps down as your breasts laid for his hand to grab and grope at. Flicking his fingers between your nipples he felt your body arch as he continued to bite at your neck. 

“So fucking gorgeous, baby girl.” He whispered as his mouth went to your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nerve as his hands moved to take your underwear to your ankles. You were exposed as his suit jacket had been chucked to the front, you were almost glad that the street was empty but the feeling of being caught sent a thrill through you. 

“Kat...daddy fuck please I...I want m...more.” Your mewls and whines as your nipples were soaked in his saliva made him groan feeling his hardened cock between your legs.

“Want daddy’s cock, want to be stuffed full of my baby’s.” His words went right through you as he unbuttoned his shirt and slipped his trousers off. His eyes watched your form underneath him, so delicate, filled with purity that he had spent countless nights ruining, tainting his precious girl.

You mumbled an answer but all he could hear was a want, a need for you to be fucked dumb by him, “I want your b…babies” You whispered as you felt his cock glide against your folds, the way his hands rested by your side and that malicious look of wanting to fuck his pretty girl being evident.

“I’ll make you a mommy don’t worry.” He whispered loudly as his cock gilded back and forth before you felt him run his hand down your body to your clit. Just as his cock went inside of your cunt his finger began to rub at the bundle of nerves, watching how your body craved more arching into his body.

His mouth went against your own once more, leaving sloppy drool filled kisses, he didn’t know what had gotten into him. To fuck you in such a public place, but he wasn’t regretting it at all, his slow thrusts became harder and deeper as his other hand kept him upright on top, his mouth moving to leave more marks as his fingers moved through your slick. “My good slut.” He groaned watching you moan out “daddy” continuously.

“You want me to be a daddy, gonna give me a baby, come on, you can do it.” His voice felt heavy as he worked his body around you, mouth latching onto your skin or nipples, fingers playing against your clit and rubbing at it to send you into overdrive. But the way his cock fit right into your cunt as if it was made for you, as if you both were two connecting pieces.

You had almost forgotten what had caused for this as you moaned out a “fuck.” But then you heard your cause, even if Bakugo wanted to put a baby in you, his harder thrusts and way he seemed to get deeper and deeper inside of your pretty little cunt. The cause of this had been jealousy and how you had acted in front of him.

“Don’t think I forgot what happened baby, I’m gonna get you pregnant, gonna make you permanently mine, no man is ever gonna look at you without seeing me, okay?” You nodded but his hand moved away from your slick filled clit and right up to your lips. “Try again.”

His fingers moved across your lips watching how slick coated it as you gave him the reply he wanted, “yes da..daddy, I wan…want to make you a daddy.”

He liked the way you spoke, liked how you agreed to be his little breeding partner. He always knew he wanted a family with you but the fast pace of this all, the way his thrusts seemed to get deeper in you with a climax being near he couldn’t help but love you. “Good girl.” He moved strands of hairs away from your face, kissing your forehead as he continued to slide back and forth inside of his pretty girl.

“Pretty baby.” He whispered as he felt you continue to mould into him, your fingers scratching into his back, your mouth against his neck making your own marks on his skin. He couldn’t help but feel love as he watched you move your hips with his thrusts.

You could feel the coil inside of your stomach needing a release as he moaned into your ear, “you want…fuck…want to cum.”

“Yes d…daddy.” You mewled back feeling his pace go quicker, each thrust sending you into overdrive.

“Cum for me.” He whispered as you felt the white gush right out of you, his cock being large enough to keep it right inside of you, Bakugo used it to gain more quicker thrusts. Using your cunt and the cum to his advantage as he felt his own coil snap and cum gush right out of him as well, he saw the way your cunt was stuffed.

The way cum was trying to leak out, he took his cock out watching the cum spill from your cunt as he looked up at your sweaty dishevelled face. He couldn’t help but imagine a future and family with you, bringing the cum into his hands you felt his fingers begin to stuff it right back into you. Looking down between your legs he looked up, as cum covered his fingers.

“Gotta make you have my baby.” He muttered as you watched him move between your legs, knee between and fingers ready to go right into your mouth, “such a slut.”

You didn’t care for his comments instead loving how his arms wrapped around you as you leant against the passenger side door. The way he rested his head against your stomach, hand in his hair as you leaked off him cum. He couldn’t help but love being in between your arms even if it was in his car naked.

“You really want me to get pregnant?” You finally questioned, he looked up into your eyes, a soft gaze before turning to face away.

“I want to have a family with you idiot, of course I want you pregnant.” He rolled his eyes as you scowled at him. “If you end up pregnant I’ll support whatever decision you make.”

“I want a family with you…” You paused watching him, he seemed eager for an answer but turned to face away to act like his normal annoyed self, “…now.”

He turned to face you, a smirk as he leant in to kiss you, he seemed happy trying to hide it with his normal demeanour, and it wasn’t like you were kids. You could have these conversations and the both of you knew that you were going to have your forever together.

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[onelovewonderwoman]

first class || charles xavier x reader

i’ve been on an x-men binge and fell into a hole of james mcavoy and charles xavier again, so here we are. i haven’t written fics in a long time, so i tried to again. i’m uncreative so like the title is just the first movie because of the fact that it’s set during that time. kind of like self insert cause there’s a few bits and pieces where there’s canonical plot and interactions, so disclaimer for that. anyways, hope you guys enjoy! ps also don’t have enough energy to find a fitting gif so maybe i’ll find one later maybe i won’t. we’ll see

words: 5.8k

warnings: not proofread (i spent three days on this so i don’t have the energy anymore haha), writing lacks emotional depth, drug use and mentions, intent of murder, thoughts of (murder, rape, suicide, etc.), poorly written two paragraphs about kissing, angst, we ignore moira and charles’ romance cause... duh, it’s x reader and it’s too difficult for me to work around it rn a haha

masterlist

The rooms were always the same. They were dark, illuminated only by the dimmest of lights emanating from the occasional lava lamp or fairy lights. Fairy - ironic word for such situations, such rooms. Filled so heavily with smoke it made it hard to breathe, let alone see. And the floors; the floors always felt different. 

In hindsight, it was probably the one thing that had her realizing the rooms were never actually the same. Sure, they had the same smell, the same overcrowdedness and moving bodies, the same darkness, even the same taste, but the floors testified to the difference each room held. 

Sometimes, when the world would freeze and all the people around her became nothing but a mesh of warm bodies, she could hear the floor creak under her feet with every step she took. There she was - the house right down the street from her. 

Other times, the floors felt sticky under her shoes. She assumed it was tequila. There were always too many bottles around to count, surely there would be spills. Or, some poor guy could have pissed himself like that one time. When her shoes sounded like velcro as she walked across the floor, she was at the house all the way across town.

In any case, she felt the same ankle up. One of her favourite parts had to be the way the music always abused her ears - so high, it made her feel lightheaded. More so than she already had been both. Sex was not nearly regular enough for her to compare, but she knew what she would feel every time the music was loud enough to make her head buzz and throb with a vengeance was more erotic than anything anyone could ever do to her.

The place could change but the scene never really did. Down to the people - she knew this for sure. She knew every beating heart around her like they were her own. She never only felt it there, but in her head as well. Even as it buzzed, she felt it. Sometimes it tore at her skull as if trying to escape - ironic.

Now, why did the scene change one evening in 1962? She told herself it was fate, but it had merely been wishful thinking when she knew why. How did she know? She knew the man sitting next to her on the worn down couch, nearly entirely unconscious and reeking of weed and vodka, knew the girl across the house, the girl across the house knew the man next to her and that - so on and so forth - meant she knew all three of them, even though they didn’t know her. So, for two new men to walk into the house, their eyes focused - focused on her - changed the scene entirely.

Now, the music became nothing more than an assault on her ears; the lights became too bright at the same time as the dark became too dark; the air became heavier than usual; and she sobered up at the feeling of something - someone - in her head. Then, it all caved in. It was as overwhelming as it always was, but she was used to it enough to handle it for a little while, at least whilst remnants of her high remained. She couldn’t say the same for the shorter of the two men she saw keel over at the pressure.

He got over it pretty quick, from what she could tell. “Charles Xavier,” he introduced himself as, “This is my colleague, Erik Lensherr.”

A quick trip from the couch to the door had her standing on the lawn of the house of the night with the two men. Crickets could be heard fighting against the sound of the music blaring from the house as she swayed on her feet, making wet sounds in the grass from earlier rain. Charles stood not much taller than her, charm emanating from him and the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to smile despite his furrowed brows and mouth set in a straight line as he stared at her, waiting for a response with his hands tucked into his coat pockets. Erik stood taller, stoic and calculating.

“And?” She crossed her arms across her chest, both in discomfort and the fact that the chilly night air had begun to bite at her skin, her long sleeve doing nothing to help. “I should care why?”

If the incident earlier wasn’t enough, the way the both of them looked at her was enough for her to know why. “What’s your name?” Charles asked, having her notice then the English accent on his tongue. 

The second she gave it to him, he smiled - almost sympathetically - at her and hummed, “You have an incredibly busy mind, Y/N.”

“And you have an incredibly nosy one, Charles.” That had Erik letting out a chuckle, one that felt like approval to her ears.

Never in a million years would she dare say yes to anything of the sort the two men proposed to her that night. A team of mutants; not necessarily that she thought it was absurd or a horrible idea - no. It made sense, not factoring in their current climate, to have a team of mutants fighting against the evils of the world. The horrible idea was to have her join. No, she wanted to tell them, “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking too,” Erik agreed with her, catching both herself and Charles off guard, “We’ll be going then.”

He offered her his hand. She didn’t know how long she stood there staring at his outstretched arm. Sometimes her high slowed time - it could have been five seconds or five minutes. When she finally looked away from his hand, up at him, she saw he stood unwavered and patient.

“You don’t have to, you know.” Her eyes shot to Charles as he broke the silence. He shook his head, brows still furrowed and mouth set in a straight line. “You’re under no obligation.”

For Charles to know, she understood. He had just been in her mind long enough to know that most of it wasn’t even hers. For Erik to know and offer her his hand made her wonder just how desperate he was to assemble the team - for whatever reason that she was about to find out in a moment.

“We leave now.” Was all he said after he tore his hand from hers.

An hour hasn’t even passed when she found herself on a plane with the two men, mind still buzzing but this time not with a high. This time, with an overwhelming anger and anticipation. The way Erik didn’t make eye contact with her and Charles sent worried glances her way throughout their trip to their “base” was enough to tell her that they knew she had already been briefed on what was happening - the reason behind their assembling of a team. Rather, she knew specifically of the personal motive behind it.

All it made her heart feel like it was beating a mile a minute. It pounded against her chest so hard she was sure at least one of them could hear it. So badly did she want to hide out in the plane’s bathroom and take something to stop the pain, but it was off the table. For now.

Soon enough the flight ended, and she came to find out their “base” was a covert CIA facility where they placed the other mutants they rounded up before her. She just as quickly met and said goodbye to Moira MacTaggert, a CIA officer working with Charles and Erik to stop Shaw. His name alone sent sparks of rage flowing through her veins.

She was left with the group when the three went off that night. There, she came face to face with Raven, Sean, Alex, Hank, Darwin, and Angel - or, Mystique, Banshee, and Havok. Darwin and Angel were “self explanatory”, considering they were already nicknames and described their powers fairly well. Hank was just… Hank.

Her turn came around quickly, once everyone settled down from Alex’s show of his “gift”, when all heads turned to her, sitting at the end of the couch. Raven smiled at her - she liked her, she was sweet - “What about you? What’s your power?”

“I’m,” She paused for a moment, the eyes on her making her anxious and curl into herself hoping, praying, another mutant wouldn’t touch her. “I can move things. With my mind.” She gave a tight smile to Raven and nodded her head, as if to reassure herself. “I can move things with my mind.”

Raven’s smile only widened, excited by either the prospect of her being able to move things with her mind or the opportunity to give her an alias. She assumed it was the latter. She excused herself to the washroom just as Raven asked the group what they thought. “We’ll have one for you once you get back! Promise!” Raven called after her.

Body filled with anticipation, she nearly ran to the washroom, willing the door closed behind her after she entered. It was small, but clean - CIA property after all. 

She tried. She really did. Albeit, making contact with a mutant was always the worst; Erik especially. The trauma, the pain, the thoughts. All them clawed at her brain, as though they were tearing through it layer by layer until nothing but them remained within her skull.

Nothing could stop her from taking out the small baggy in her back pocket and tearing it open. Nothing could stop her from taking it, only to feel a rush flow through her. It would take a bit, but soon enough she would stop feeling them gnawing on her very existence. Soon, numbness would wash over her and she could just be no one.

She guessed she was in the washroom for about half an hour. Staring at her reflection, at the floor, at the ceiling, at anything, but when she made her way back to the room, she found it in disarray. Music was blasting from the radio, chairs flipped over, Raven on top of the couch dancing as Hank hung from the ceiling light, the rest of the group messing around with their powers. She couldn’t tell if they were experiencing some high of their own or just happened to have gotten their hands on some alcohol.

“What are you doing? Who destroyed the statue?” Moira’s voice broke her out of the trance she was in watching the group. Slowly, she turned her head to see her, Charles, and Erik walking over as everyone else froze. Moira was angry, that much anyone could tell, but the two men were unreadable.

Hank was the first one to reply back, jumping down the ceiling, panicked, “It was Alex.”

“No. Havok.” Raven seemed to stay unfazed, still standing on the couch with a wide smile on her face. “We have to call him Havok. That's his name now…”

Raven’s words melted away from her. Her focus wasn’t elsewhere; it was simply nowhere at all. She stared at everyone in the room, yet no one at all. So caught up in nothing she didn’t notice Charles himself staring at her until Erik uttered something under his breath and walked away with Moira following, brows furrowed in what looked to be confusion. Just as she caught his eye, he looked away.

Directed at Raven, he spoke firmly, “I expect more from you.”

Not long after, they had gotten word that Shaw would be in Russia, and so she was left with the group of mutants when the three left alongside the CIA to get their hands on him. Before, it would have made her wonder what purpose the group of mutants really served if they didn’t want them there to help. Now, after the incident, she understood why.

By no means were any of them prepared for such a task. She couldn’t claim to be either. She only agreed because she knew a part within her would hate her for not coming and at the very least trying to help.

Just when she thought she and the solemn group couldn’t be any more of a liability, she was proven wrong. Because now Sebastian Shaw stood in front of them, smug and irritating as ever, after having his lackey drop an unsuspecting CIA to his death in front of all of them and cornering them. 

“Good evening. My name's Sebastian Shaw, and I'm not here to hurt you.” She was sure she wasn’t the only one assuming he had taken out every single CIA operative in the facility to make it this far; a thought that filled her being with even more dread than she was already feeling at the sight of him. “My friends, there's a revolution coming. When mankind discovers who we are, what we can do, each of us will face a choice. Be enslaved or rise up to rule. Choose freely, but know that if you are not with us, then by definition, you are against us. So, you can stay and fight for the people who hate and fear you. Or you can join me, and love like kings and queens.”

They all watched, both shocked and betrayed when Angel took the hand Shaw outstretched, standing by his side even when he murdered Darwin in his attempt to stop him with Alex. She didn’t see it - she turned away the second Shaw released the energy he’d taken from Alex into Darwin. She heard it, though. The explosion. When she turned back, as Shaw, Angel, and the men he had brought with him retreated, she saw nothing. There was no sign of Darwin; not even a speck of dust.

Suddenly, her chest tightened and the clawing came back.

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

The person who happened to almost send them home also happened to be the one who provided them a new place to train their powers for the fight with Shaw. Charles was entirely serious and extremely close to sending them all home; “They’re just kids.” But Erik made it clear to him that they couldn’t be anymore, not after Shaw.

Charles lived, alongside Raven, in a massive mansion that had been entirely too big for her to take in, but it provided the perfect space for them to train their powers. Each of them were assigned rooms by Charles personally that day. 

He took the liberty of walking them each there. She didn’t know if it was just her or a Charles thing, but he stayed quiet. Unusual for a man that had so much to say. But then again, with what they’ve already been through, she couldn’t imagine he was feeling very chatty. She certainly wouldn’t have been in his situation. Granted, she would be feeling the same way now, but in her predicament by this point, she wouldn’t mind someone else’s verbal company.

The second he guided her through the bedroom

door, she began to take in the sheer size of the room, feeling bigger than life itself in the way that she was feeling. The bed was even better; huge and looked as though the softness of it would swallow her into a warm hug. Her first instinct would have been to jump right onto it, but the fact that Charles ceased to leave and instead remained planted there, giving her a look she couldn’t make out once she turned to face him, made her fight against her urges.

She opened her mouth in an attempt to utter an “Are you alright?” but never got the chance. Instead, Charles spoke as soon as her mouth opened, slowly, as if to make sure she understood every word he was saying like she had been incapable of doing so before, “Training starts tonight, but I’ll be seeing you tomorrow.”

With her brows furrowed in confusion, she nodded, and Charles began to walk away. He stopped by the frame of the door, back to her, and spoke again, “Try and get some rest.”

With that, he shut the door behind him. Now, she was left in the room alone, tiredness washing over her. Awaiting the next day, she decided to fall into the cloud that was the bed and fall asleep while she could.

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

The next morning was when Charles asked to see her - by Raven. The young woman led her over to a room, an odd dome shaped one, where Charles stood waiting. He wasn’t the same as the night before - uncomfortable, was the only way she knew to describe it - welcoming and encouraging.

“We’ve got plenty of work to do,” Charles spoke, hands in his pockets, as she entered and Raven excused herself elsewhere. Looking around, she could see evidence that training had started last night, namely Alex’s. Dark scuff marks were streaked across walls of the dome on the end farthest from them and small balls of fluff on the floor remained, assumingly left behind in the midst of a quick clean up of training dummies that had been torn open.

Despite the mess, several other objects were placed across the floor. All ranged from light to heavy. Chairs, weights - it looked to be anything he could have been capable of carrying in with the help of the others.

She stopped in front of him. “What’s this?”

The man’s smile widened before he started, rather loudly at that. “Well.” He moved towards the objects then spun around to face her, arms outstretched. “This is the beginning of your training.”

She raised an eyebrow, looking at the man unimpressed. “You want me to move this stuff around?”

“You’re not just moving stuff around.” Charles shook his head, arms dropping to his sides as he declared. “You don’t need to move everything here. I only need to see how much you can handle.” His head tilted as he looked at her, blue eyes meeting her own as his expression retreated to one of curiosity. “And how you handle it.”

She didn’t think the professor was aware of the innuendo within the situation, so she let it go despite the sweet stomach dropping feeling that came over her. Instead, she shrugged. “Then what?”

“Then,” Charles hesitated for a moment, “Erik was able to move a satellite dish. If it happens to be possible-”

“A satellite dish?” She laughed incredulously, “You can be serious.”

Charles nodded towards her, challenging her statements as he took a few steps forward. “And what is it that’s making you believe you’re incapable of doing anything similar?”

“Look.” She shook her head, looking directly at him when she said, “I can move the average household item, shut a door and maybe, just maybe, bust it down, but I couldn’t push your couch across the room, let alone move a fu- a satellite dish.”

Charles’ brows furrowed. “And that’s what you believe?”

She hummed. “That’s what I know.”

“Well,” he sighed, disappointment written across his face that sent her into a spiral, “There’s not much we can do if you don’t believe you can better yourself, is there?”

The second he walked past her was when it felt as though ice water had been spilt onto her. A mixture of confusion and gloom washed over her before she turned to see Charles’ back, still moving towards the door. “What?”

He stopped in his tracks at her exclamation, waiting several moments as if contemplating before he turned back to her. Carefully, he asked, “Why do you take them?”

She shook her head, looking almost offended. “How did you-”

“Your mind,” Charles confirmed, “It gets quieter.”

The offence on her face never ceased, but the uncomfortable mixture of feelings she was overwhelmed with had her shrug in response to his question. Charles only nodded and gave her a tight smile before turning back.

She closed her eyes, resigning herself with huff. She could go back to the life she had come to know and hate, or she could take the second chance he was giving her even if it did include the prospect of some suffering.

“I don’t take them for fun.” The sound of her voice made Charles stop again. This time, he waited. “When I touch a person I don’t just take every experience. I take every memory.”

He turned around to face her once more and gave her nod, signalling her to continue. She breathed in and out. “I see and I feel everything that’s happened to them. That’s a lot and it’s enough, but that’s not why I-”

She cut herself off, feeling herself choke on the words before shaking her head and persisting herself on despite Charles’ look of concern. “I take them because, when I take their memories, I take all of their thoughts too. Every one. So every thought of murder, or rape, or suicide, or any fucked up thing, keeps tearing me apart from the inside out.”

Charles nodded, walking closer to her, choosing his words carefully as he spoke, sympathy written deep in his soft voice, “And they scare you.”

She shook her head. Looking away from him for a moment, she willed away tears she felt gathering. She turned back to him. “The thought of acting on them scares me.”

Although slightly taken aback by the revelation, Charles holds his composure. He nodded before opening his mouth to respond, walking closer as he began.

The only reaction he got was her taking a step back, shaking her head. “I swear I’m not a bad person.” Charles assumed she didn’t want him touching her - considering she took away every thought. “I’m always all these people at once - I don’t even know who I am.”

“Then we will figure it out.” Charles tilted his head, making sure her eyes met his when she attempted to look away. His voice was soft and reassuring to her ears, even if she didn’t know whether to believe him or not. “You aren’t alone, Y/N.”

As it turns, the drugs were having a large effect on her ability to use her powers - the next few days told her as much. By no means was she capable of moving a satellite dish, but she had been able to take her powers to lengths she never thought she could have been able to.

Most of it was due to Charles - he’d spent most of the next few days with her, pushing her, sometimes to the point where she’d snap at him. She always calmed, though, and Charles always remained coolheaded.

Still, they grew closer. Or at least she grew closer to him. She couldn’t tell if the praise, the laughs, the banter, and the willingness to come back together after a fight only meant something to her. She hoped it did - because why else wouldn’t he just give up on her? All that time spent on advancing her powers to defeat Shaw, and he still talked about helping her as though their relationship would continue past this mission.

Part of her wanted to touch him so she could just know. Even if he hadn’t taken such a liking to her as she had him, at the very least try to understand him in his entirety and make a space for herself in his life. Then, another part of her was horrified at what she would find in there.

For the time being, there wasn’t much opportunity to dwell on it. The day they would head out was coming soon, and Erik suggested the group get a good night’s rest. They would all need it.

With her luck, she didn’t know why she thought that sleep would come easy that night. Whether it was due to adrenaline, anxiety, or anything else, didn’t matter. Because whatever was keeping her up had her pacing the hallways of Charles’ estate that night.

She wasn’t looking for it, but instead happened upon a conversation. 

“… no difference. Shaw’s declared war on mankind. On all of us. He has to be stopped.” She heard Charles’ voice through a door as she passed by. Although knowing that he could probably make out the sound of her mind from a mile away, she still stopped by it. She grew even more curious when she heard Erik’s voice. 

“I'm not gonna stop Shaw. I'm gonna kill him. Do you have it in you to allow that?” A moment of silence passed and she shifted on her feet. It made the floor creek. She shut her eyes and bit her lip, nervous, expecting to hear the sound of one of their footsteps coming to open the door and catch her eavesdropping. Whether they heard or not, she didn’t know as Erik continued on, “You've known all along why I was here, Charles. But things have changed. What started as a covert mission, tomorrow mankind will know that mutants exist. Shaw, us, they won't differentiate. They'll fear us. And that fear will turn to hatred.”

“Not if we stop a war,” Charles’ voice wavered on a line of urgency and assurance, “Not if we can prevent Shaw. Not if we risk our lives doing so.”

Charles very well could have been doing nothing but reassuring Erik with his words, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he was actually trying to reassure himself. As if the world wouldn’t either discard or abuse them once they’ve served their purpose of their betterment. 

“Will they do the same for us?”

“We have it in us to be the better men.”

“We already are.” Erik’s voice quickly turned from calm to urgent when he next spoke. “We're the next stage of human evolution. You said it yourself!”

“No, no!” She heard Charles attempt to cut Erik off before he sighed. She could practically hear the disappointment in it, although she couldn’t say she felt the same. He only let Erik continue.

“Are you really so naive as to think that they won't battle their own extinction?” She heard him pause. “Or is it arrogance?”

“I’m sorry?” As if Charles had misheard him. 

She shifted on her feet once more as their voices became more hushed, despite the feeling coming from the room becoming more hostile than calm. This time, she was more careful. Nothing made a sound below her feet when she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against it, as well as her left palm for support.

“After tomorrow, they're gonna turn us. But you're blind to it, because you believe they're all like Moira.” 

“And you believe they're all like Shaw.” Came Charles’ immediate response. Calmly, she heard him continue, “Listen to me very carefully my friend. Killing Shaw will not bring you peace.”

Erik’s voice never wavered when he told Charles, “Peace was never an option.”

Footsteps came far too fast for her to move away from the door. In a split second, she found herself leaning against the door to crashing into Erik’s chest when he pulled the door open. For a moment, Erik stood staring down at her, watching her attempt to recompose herself and attempt to apologize. She didn’t get a word out before he moved past her and walked away.

She watched his form retreat before she turned back to the room. Standing in the doorway, she saw Charles sitting in the chair facing away from her. With his eyes closed and fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed, “You realize I can hear your mind from across this house?”

She took a step in, almost reluctantly. She didn’t imagine Charles would be content with anything she had to say, but maybe she could make him understand. “Erik’s right, you know.”

Her words had Charles’ eyes snap open. He got out the chair, setting down the drink he was nursing on the table next to him, before he turned to face her. “Excuse me?”

“Peace isn’t an option ‘cause we’re never gonna get peace.” She shook her head, desperation in both her voice and eyes as she stared into his. “Erik thinks they’re gonna turn on us. They might not, but it doesn’t mean any of us will get any peace. They won’t all be like Shaw, they won’t all be like Moira, but most of them - most of them will just be human. They’ll fear us and they’ll judge us. It doesn’t matter how harmless we are or not.”

She watched as Charles took a step forward, his head tilting to the side, expression unreadable as his voice remained calm. “You can’t be serious.” It was a statement - a wrong one.

“Shaw needs to die,” She spoke with assurance. She felt her eyes fill with tears, Charles watching her suck in a breath and release as he began to walk closer to her, before she spoke in a whisper, no longer trusting her voice, “Shaw needs to die for what he did to us. We’re going to kill him, Charles.”

They’re faces we’re merely inches apart, chilling her to the bone as he looked at her. What she thought he would never do is what he tried the second he began to raise his hand, speaking quickly to her when he asked, “Us?”

His hand almost cupped her cheek when she turned her head away from it. Immediately, his hand froze. Charles watched her profile as more tears welled up in her eyes and her lips began to tremble. Voice weak and tearful, staring away from him, she pleaded, “Please don’t confuse me. I can’t-”

“I know you feel it,” Charles’ other hand came up to guide her face back to him despite her, whispering carefully, “But it is not your cross to bear.”

His hand was warm against her cheek. Comforting - enough to make her mind go blank. Wishful thinking, of course, because soon the clawing in her head would come back with a vengeance at having a man such as Charles touch her. For now, though, he felt safe. Stable. Enough so that she could close her eyes for a moment and let the tears fall as he leaned down to her and let his forehead press against hers. 

“You can’t help but feel his pain,” She felt his breath against her lips as he spoke, his voice the same soft and soothing as she’s known it to be, “But you can decide what you do with it.”

She shook her head gently and pulled away, but still letting Charles’ hand rest against her cheek. “It’s not just-” she whispered to him, mouth feeling dry as her eyes avoided his, trying to piece her thoughts together. His hand slid down to the base of her neck, guiding her eyes to his. She licked her lips before she swallowed. “I barely knew Darwin, but he killed him right in front of us. And it was cruel and scary and I couldn’t even make myself look at it when it happened.”

“I know.” Charles brought his other hand up to brush away slow falling tears she hadn’t even known began to escape. He voiced nothing but concern, letting her continue as if he knew what she was going to say next. 

Her hands reached up to wrap around his wrists, not to pull his hands away from her, but to simply hold onto them. Almost as if they were an anchor to make up for the tears she now felt were falling faster down her face as she realized. “For the first time, I think I want something, I feel this anger and fear, because of my head. I saw it first and I felt it first. It’s mine, and now I have a real responsibility to take care of it.”

“Not with murder.” Her hands tightened around his wrists as he brought her face closer to his own. A frown on his face as he desperately told her, “I meant it when I told you that we would figure this out together. You told me you were never your own person, that you don’t even know yourself. We were - we are - going to bring you into existence. I beg you, Y/N, don’t let yourself be brought into this world as a murderer.”

His words, as beautiful as they were, only half registered within her brain. All she found herself focusing on then was how close he was. She would think back later and come to realize that it was because the only thing making her tears stop and giving her the will not to commit a murder was the prospect of approval she would get from a man like him. From someone who could never understand her struggle, someone who never tried to or tried to make her feel as though there was some way out. From someone who wanted to build on it and show her the strength she could find within it.

Realistically, she knew he would have a few words for her if she ever outwardly admitted to him that she used approval as a means for bettering herself, but it was the best she could do at the time being.

Charles’ brows furrowed as he watched her face, spaced out and regarding him with an expression not even he could read. Somewhere deep down, though, he knew he had gotten through to her. His lips curled up slightly, speaking lowly with amusement evident in his voice, “Now where did you go?”

Her eyes shot from his lips to his eyes once more. As quick as they made eye contact, she leaned forward to press her lips against his. Lips soft, she kissed him carefully, one hand moving to cup his face. Only in the last few moments did he respond to it by kissing back.

She pulled away, looking at him nervously and letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding in. Her mouth was dry again. “I’m sorry-”

She was cut off by Charles’ lips on hers once more. She kissed back instantly, sighing into the kiss in content. Feeling Charles smirk against her lips and deepen the kiss, she put both hands behind his neck, pulling his body closer to hers. He took her lower lip between his teeth, pulling slightly as he let his hands trail down her body to her waist, pulling her to make sure there wasn’t the slightest gap between their bodies.

Their lips broke apart, but only long enough to allow for a quick breath. Charles pushed his lips back into hers as her hands snaked down to the collar of his dress shirt, playing carefully with the top button.

Eventually, their lips broke apart as they caught their breath. Bodies still pressed together, Charles leant forward to rest his forehead onto hers, her eyes still close, for a moment before pressing a kiss to it. He placed his chin on top of her head and rested there, her head resting against the crook of his neck as she felt him - anticipating what it would feel like to feel nothing but him. 

[tickly-trashcan]

Comeuppance {Aether, Lumine, and Venti}

A/N: we talked about this a little bit in the discord server a while back and it has finally come to fruition uhuhu~ Hope y’all like this one! I had a lot of fun with it oughhh

Summary: Sitting in the fields, Venti decides to mess with Aether. But when Lumine finds out just how much he teases her brother, how will she serve his comeuppance?

Word Count: 1.4k (under the cut)

Lumine, Aether and Venti sat underneath the tree at Windrise, laying down in the grass, Venti laying between the twins with his arms behind his head as he hummed, Aether quietly snoring next to him as Lumine sat on his opposite side, hands folded neatly over her stomach.

“Aether~ Wakey wakey~” Venti teased, glancing over at the sleeping boy, one hand on his stomach with the other lazily held above his head. Venti grinned, poking Aether’s underarm a few times, making the blonde squeak and quickly jolt awake.

“Ventiiii,” Aether whined, propping himself up on his elbows as Lumine glanced over at the two boys, Venti chuckling as he stuck out his tongue, shrugging.

“You were falling asleep, it’s not my fault!”

“Well you didn’t have to tickle me! You always do that,” Aether pouted. Lumine propped herself up as well, glancing over at Aether as she frowned.

“Does he?”

Aether nodded, sending a soft glare at Venti who still had his arms behind his head, whistling innocently with a smug grin on his face.

“Yeah, a lot. I’d say every other day,” Aether confessed, laying back down, squeaking again when Venti poked him once more, Lumine now sending a soft glare at Venti.

“That’s not very fair, don’t you let him get you back, Venti?”

Venti shrugged again and Lumine frowned. “It’s impossible for him to get me back, I’m not even ticklish. And if you’re anything like your brother, I bet I could take you both on at the same time,” He said cockily, grin widening.

Lumine looked over at Aether, who sat with his arms crossed, pouting. Lumine glanced back at Venti, who was sitting up, wiggling his fingers at Lumine. She raised an eyebrow as he jumped at her, immediately scribbling up and down her sides. She didn’t react, just stared at him as he looked up at her, confusion on his face.

“Wh-What? Are you guys lying about being siblings??”

Lumine grabbed Venti’s wrist, making him squeak as she shoved him down, pinning him easily as she straddled him. Aether looked over in curiosity as Venti squirmed beneath her, panic setting in on his features as he looked up at Lumine, who still held his wrist in her hand.

“Lumine! H-Hey, come on, get off!” Venti started, and Lumine only smirked.

“Why are you so scared, Venti? I thought you weren’t ticklish?”

“I’m not!”

Lumine glanced at Aether who was staring at her, a small grin on his face. She nodded at him and he quickly crawled over, sitting himself down on Venti’s thighs, back-to-back with Lumine. Venti’s eyes widened as he squirmed more, looking up at Lumine in fear. She only grinned back, letting go of his wrist and latching her hands on his hips, Venti jolting from the light touch.

Lumine glanced back at Aether, who turned slightly to look at her, smirking.

“How many times did you say he’s gotten you?”

“Too many, but I’d say at least thirty.”

“Then how about thirty minutes Venti, hmm? I mean, if you’re not ticklish that should be easy, right?”

Venti shook his head frantically, Lumine chuckling as she started to gently knead his hips, Venti immediately starting to giggle as Lumine cocked her head to the side.

“Oh? You’re laughing? That would mean… the great Anemo Archon is ticklish? Aww, how cute~” She teased, Venti’s face going bright red in embarrassment as he shook his head, giggling.

“I’m nohohohot!”

“Sure doesn’t sound like it!” Aether piped in, touching Venti’s knees gently, making him immediately kick and squeak.

“Don’t!” He shrieked, and Aether hummed. 

“I think you deserve at least a little tickling, wouldn’t you agree sis?”

“Most definitely.”

“Y-You guys! You don’t have to do this, look, I’m sorrehehehehehe - wahait! Lumihihine!” He squawked when Lumine started squeezing his hips again, digging her thumb into the bone as he threw his head back.

He shrieked shrilly when Aether started squeezing his knees as well, Venti kicking frantically as two of his worst spots were attacked easily by the twins. His hysterical cackles immediately filled the air around them, making Lumine laugh.

“You sound like a goose, Venti,” Lumine teased, making Aether laugh as he scribbled under Venti’s knees, making the god practically scream.

“He does!”

“I do nohohohot!” Venti whined, yelling suddenly when Lumine climbed up to his ribs, clawing at them as he clamped his arms down, trying to block out the sensations but only managing to trap her hands. 

Aether slowly spidered his fingers across the top of Venti’s knee, making Venti howl. The sensations were bad enough on their own, but his thin tights only seemed to heighten the feeling, making it agonizingly ticklish. He shook his head back and forth, tears of mirth pooling in his eyes as Lumine cooed at him, teasing him.

“Can the great Anemo Archon really not handle a little tickling? Why dish it out so much if you can barely take it?”

Venti’s face went bright red as he snorted, Lumine and Aether laughing with him as he scrunched up his nose, covering his face in embarrassment.

“So he sounds like a goose and he snorts?” Aether chuckled, and Venti whined, kicking his legs more as another snort escaped, making the twins laugh once more. 

“I’m gohohohonna get yohohohou for this, Aetheheheher!” Venti threatened, screaming when Lumine clicked her tongue, going back to his hips and kneading them harder than before, making him squirm desperately.

“You’re in no place to be making threats now, Venti… How long has it been Aether?”

“Hmm… five minutes?”

“Twenty-five to go, Venti~” Lumine teased, making Venti positively squeal as his mirthful tears began to spill onto his red cheeks. He tried weakly to kick his legs, digging his heels into the earth beneath him as Aether squeezed his kneecaps.

“Aehehehehether!! Wait! Luhuhumine, not theheheHEHERE!” Venti whined, shrieking when Lumine started scribbling over his tummy, Venti throwing his head back and cackling as Lumine laughed at him.

“Can’t take what you dish out, now can you Venti?”

Venti shook his head wildly, snorting and hiccuping as tears stained his cheeks, his wild and frantic laughter only growing in volume when Lumine scratched how lower tummy, pinching lightly as he threw his head back, grabbing onto Lumine’s wrists for support as she chuckled at him.

“NAhahaha! Plehehehease, I’m dyinggg!” Venti wailed, and Aether barked out a laugh, scribbling under Venti’s knees as he screeched.

“You’re not dying, you’ve gotten me way worse than this!”

“Hahahahave not!”

Lumine tutted, dancing her fingers along Venti’s ribs as he howled, squirming around and whining as Lumine grinned.

“We’re gonna tickle you within an inch of your life,” She said, sounding almost threatening. Aether glanced at her, slightly concerned with her tone.

“You’re joking… right?”

“Maybe~,” Lumine cooed, shoving her hands under Venti’s arms as he screamed with mirth.

Snorts, guffaws, and shrieks filled the air as the twins continued to tickle the living hell out of Venti, who couldn’t do anything but take it and cackle. His face was bright red, tears streaming down his cheeks as he dug his heels into the ground, Aether now kneading his lower thighs as Lumine went back for his tummy.

“I CAHAhahahan’t! No mohohore, plehehehease!”

“Hmm… what do you think, Aether? Mercy?”

Aether craned his head around to look at Venti’s face, seeing nothing but a bright red mess that Venti had been reduced to. Aether nodded quickly, and Lumine sighed, slowing her fingers as Aether immediately pulled away from Venti and got off of him as if he were running from a crime scene.

Lumine got off of the Archon as well, giving him a chance to breathe as he immediately curled on himself, one hand covering his tummy as he pointed at the twins with his other hand.

“You… twins… evil… especially you,” he said, pointing at Lumine, who only chuckled.

“Thanks, it’s my specialty.”

Aether puffed his chest, looking down at Venti with his hands on his hips. He smirked, Venti looking up at him as residual giggles continued to spill from his lips.

“Not gonna tickle me anymore, huh Venti?”

“Who said I wasn’t?” Venti said with a grin, sitting up and wiggling his fingers at Aether, who squeaked. He was about to pounce on him, but Lumine hooked her arms under Venti’s, pulling him back as he yelped.

“Ready for round two already, Venti~?”

“No! Wait, I was kihihihidding! Aetheeeer!” Venti wailed as he was tickled to pieces by the twins yet again. Will he ever learn?

[forthechubbies]

What's Wrong With Secretary Park?!

Synopsis• If balancing work and a stubborn ex-husband isn't hard enough, Let's add the boss’s seven sons falling head over heels for her to mix.

Category's• Romcon, Comedy, Office Au.

Duos• BTS X Reader

A spin-off of the original series ‘ What's Wrong With Secretary Kim’ Bangtan Edition! Starring the Handsome, Seo-Joon Park as the Ex husband.

There will be more parts but I didn’t want the title to be to long.

EP. One Two

“ Mrs. Park, Good Morning!”

“Mrs. Park, What does my schedule look like today?”

“Mrs. Park, Your coffee keeps me alive.”

In case you haven’t noticed, Park Yn, I’m the secretary to Jeon Sung-ho, the CEO of Dnd Parmatech, 85 percent of the time, newly build hospitals or centers use our funds as kickstarts. Daily I make schedules, appointments, filing documents, answering calls, and blah blah blah.

Is it boring? Yes, I know. However, quite refreshing coming from my hectic marriage. Once upon a time, I was wedded to the marvelous actor Park Seo-Joon for three years. I sat in the limelight and even had the privilege to play the part of his wife in movies. Sigh. Although the attention and riches were grand, no amount of expensive counseling could save our marriage. We never saw eye to eye on anything, and his short temper wasn’t helping.

Knowing my worth, I packed up and left without a doubt in my head. However, The documentation of our separation wasn’t finalized due to a certain one refusing to sign off on the divorce agreement. So physically, I’m still Mrs. Park but ain’t no piece of paper telling who I belong too.

Whatever! I have too much to focus on already! Game on, Game on! First, I got to get these papers approved and signed by Mr. Jeon then-

Buzz Buzz Buzz!

Who’s calling-

Speak of the devil. I could have sworn I deleted his contact a long time ago! “ What Seo-Joon? I’m busy-“

“ When is this little temper tantrum going to end? Darling, I think you made your point.”

“My point?! Listen here, You slimy son of-” Now, Now Yn calm down calm down don’t let him get a rise out you that just what he wants. A quick exhale should do the trick. “ Seo-Joon, I believe we reached an agreed on no type of communication unless it revolves around the settlement for the divorce.”

How is it possible I can physically see his snarky face?

Seo-Joon stretched out his list of complaints.” It’s been over a year. I miss your kisses, soft skin, that cute birthmark on your-“

“ You will not talk about such embarrassing things over the phone!” Thank goodness, Nobody was around to hear me shot like that.

“Why is this divorce still an issue?!” There goes that temper again-How whinny can one man be? “ If you don’t stop this, I will take matters into my own hands.”

I laughed. “ Ha, Seo-jerk, I’m not scared of you! Do your worst because It doesn’t matter if you drag me back home; it doesn’t subside the problem being over our marriage.” I feel like a broken record at this point. “ If this isn’t about the papers, this conversation is over, Mr. Park; please refrain from calling me again, goodbye.”

He chuckled and mumbled something along the lines of, “ Your cute acting cheeky like this.” The rest he continued louder “ Those delicate hands of yours were made to indulge in the finest silk and satin I can obtain, not working nine to five at whatever job hired a housewife with zero work ethic. I just know I haven’t touched your side of the room since that night- I love you, Mrs.Park, I always will.”

He hung up. You know, after he finished insulting my new lifestyle and calling me a useless housewife, the ‘ I love you’ bit at the end sounds sincere, but he is an actor! Of course.

Hmph! Just because I’m working for myself for one doesn’t mean I’m miserable. I’m actually in love with my job, It pays well with benefits, and I sat on my butt all day. If that pompous little bedazzled turd thinks making me the butt of his jokes will get me back in his arms, he has another thing coming!

“Um, Mrs. Park?”

“ What!” I snapped. “ Oh, Hoseok, I’m sorry!” I bowed my head; the poor thing nearly jumped out of his shoes.

Hoseok beamed his warm heart-shaped smile at me. “ Oppa is having a family meeting today; I guess I’m the first to show.”

I wasn’t informed about a meeting today from Mr.Jeon, maybe because it’s a family affair.

“Tada!” He cutely squeaks. A tasteful package breakfast alongside a tall cup of what I presume is a coffee from..’ Thanks Nature’!

“Oh my- Hobi, this cafe is across town-”

“I overhead Oppa scolding you for skipping meals one day and I’m here to do the same, don’t skip meals or else We will be hurt if something happens to you.” Hoseok pointed at the pack. “ Eat every bit.”

Hoseok displayed a small heart using his index finger and thumb, hopping off to his father’s double doors.

Mr. Jeon has seven sons in all. The man is a true saint; men like him and his sons are why I still believe not all men are dogs. After losing his wife to heart cancer, He just about went bankrupt, donating all he had to have found cures to multiple diseases hoping nobody else had to suffer his same heartbreak.

Love found him again in an orphanage just north of here, ‘Seoul Children Home.’ His first son, Kim Seokjin, at the time Jin was already in his teenage years, making it difficult for him to find a family due to the high demand of couples wanting a single-digit child. His birth family mistreated him, but he was beaten everywhere except his face to keep his handsome appearance. The family decided to put his money-maker to fair use and attempted to sell him. Seokjin saw his opportunity and high-tailed, landing himself in the orphanage where he happily lends a helping hand every chance he got. He learned how to read, write, cook, clean, and even tend to the tots when the nuns were busy.

This is how he met his slightly younger brothers, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Namjoon; when being chosen for adoption, Seokjin refused to live without his baby brothers by his side.

“ Hello, Noona!”

Oh, Look just in time, “ Hello, You’re father is in his office.”

Namjoon eyed my edible gift from Hobi and raised his eyebrow as well as a question. “ So this is why Hyung left so early in the morning for-and I hope you’re having a good morning, Noona.”

I’m not older than them. Why do they call me Noona? Do I look old!?

“ Yn, Good morning! How are you!” Jin greeted me with English this morning. He must have been practicing with Namjoon lately.

“ I’m Fine. Seokjin.”

“Chu.” He blew a kiss my way. “ You’re not fine. You’re amazeing.”

“Amazing.” Namjoon corrected for the sidelines.

“Same thing.”

“Pronunciation is everything, Hyung.”

They stopped halfway from their dad’s office. Jin grinned. Wait, I know that smile; oh no, here comes a dad joke.

“ Hey, Namjoon-You know the reason I took the elevator instead of the stairs?”

Namjoon sighed. “ No, why?”

"I don't trust stairs. They're always up to something." Jin burst out laughing and clapped his hands.

I giggled not from the joke, but Jin has a contagious laugh.

“See, Yn has good taste.”

A slow deep groan entered the office belonging to Yoongi, lagging. “ I heard that terrible joke from the elevator.” Yoongi waved and leaned against my desk. “ Good Morning.”

“Good Morning.”

There was an awkward pause before Yoongi tapped my desk and pointed to his dad’s office from walking that way.

“Yoon-Yoongi!?”

He turned back towards me.

“ I have something for you. I packed it up on the way here.” Getting off my butt, I walked up and gave him a bottle of his favorite black ice coffee. Ew. I don’t know how he drinks it with no cream or sugar.

Yoongi smiled his gummy smile. “ Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome.” And off he goes into the office as well.

Yoongi isn’t the biggest fan of human interaction, but he put forth an endeavor towards me, whether it’s a light ‘ Hi or Hello” or the simplicity of a wave. I admire his gusto. Sidenote, He’s so adorable-I know I know I shouldn’t be gushing over my boss’s son, but his chubby cheeks and almond eyes melt my heart like butter on toast!

Ahem-I better get back to answering those emails and drink this beautiful cup of expensive mud before it gets lukewarm. Yummy, The delectable taste is a boost of serotonin! I really should get to work buuut Hobi did command me to get every last bit and technically he is my boss through some type of weird relative aspect. He is the boss.

Just in a moment of seconds, The breakfast and drink was trash. Something that good should be sinful. I feel terrible I should have saved some for the babies; they would have some, especially Jungkook.

The babies should be here any minute.

[gohyuck]

1/7 of my milestone drabbles!

pairing: streetracer!mark lee x reader

genre: fluff/angst/smut

word count: 2.1k

plot request: @hansolstea​ said: streetracer au + “if you think you can beat me on the tracks, then you’re on the wrong side of the wheel”

warnings: not chronological so pay attention to timestamps, ambiguous relationship between the main characters, mild car accident, explicit sex, choking, ...cumming inside, mild overstimulation, slightly shitty aftercare due to the setting

SATURDAY 1:27 A.M.

“fucking take it.” he growls in your ear from above you, burying your face further into the pillow and readjusting your position so your hips are higher in the air. you let a gasping moan out without meaning to, and mark, almost without thinking, lands a hand against your ass in response, drawing forth a keening wail. “you think you’re all that, huh? think you’re invincible? hm? answer me.” 

“n-no, fuck, mark, i-” he speeds up his hips, pistoning into you at a breakneck pace, almost smothering you into the motel bed’s surprisingly soft pillow. it’s obvious that he doesn’t care about what you say as long as it isn’t the safe word. you already know he’ll leave you bruised and battered, aching from how hard he’s fucking you, but you also know not to expect anything else. 

mark lee is not your friend. mark lee certainly isn’t your lover. mark lee is a cocky, inflammatory bastard who has never hesitated to push your buttons in public. he brings out the worst in you, and you bring out the worst in him. 

unfortunately for everyone involved, mark’s the best fuck you’ve ever had, and you know that he’s never had as good a time sticking his dick in anyone else. 

as he pulls out, causing you to whine at the loss of contact, only to flip you over and immediately plow into you again, hard arms caging you in against the bed, you can’t help but think back to the series of events that led you here. not four hours earlier, you’d been on the ‘track’, jeno’s ford mustang right beside mark’s chevy corvette c6. everything that had happened there had led to what’s happening now. 

“fucking take it,” mark growls again, almost unaware of what he himself is saying at this point. you’d laugh at him if you weren’t drunk off of him. his words bring you back to the present, your back arching until your chest meets his. “someone has to put you in your place.”

FRIDAY 9:55 P.M.

“come to get your ass beat?” 

mark whirls around to see you leaning against your brother’s bright red mustang, a smirk adorning your features. he’s always been reactionary when it comes to you, and tonight is no different: his relaxed gaze hardens immediately as it falls on you, and his otherwise gentle smile morphs into a sneer. still, he attempts to maintain his composure, never wanting the first of you two to break. 

“you’re not even driving tonight, princess. that’s big talk for someone too scared to race against me.”

“not my fault my brother wanted a piece of you first. be grateful - you couldn’t handle going against me.” you respond with ease, pushing yourself off of the car in favor of walking towards the man you can’t stand. his shoulders tense up for a moment, only to ease up again as he rolls them back, shoving both of his hands into his black bomber jacket’s pockets.  you take a split second to appraise him, though you pray he doesn’t realize that you’re checking him out: black bomber, plain white tee, a thin checkered red flannel, ripped black skinny jeans, a dark brown belt, and a black beanie. even you can’t deny how attractive he is, no matter how badly you wish you could.

your eyes have trailed to his chest, and when you snap your head up to look at him, he’s smirking. that bastard. 

“if you think you can beat me on the tracks, then you’re on the wrong side of the wheel,” he shrugs his shoulders, very obviously presenting you with a challenge. “should be inside the car, not outside it… unless you’re afraid, princess. i’d let you off the hook if you were, of course. it would be understandable: nobody wants to lose.”

“call me princess one more fucking time-” you retort, so close to him that you can smell his cologne. 

“princess.” he draws the word out, and that’s the only mark lee you’ve ever known. the pain in your ass. he’s a good friend of jeno’s - hell, your brother even looks up to the man smirking at you right now - and gets along well with everyone you know. you’re the only exception, and you don’t know how to feel about that.

anger. arousal, maybe- no, just anger. it’s just anger, you tell yourself. before you can even sort out your own thoughts, you find yourself turning, yelling out your brother’s name. 

“i’m driving tonight,” you call out, leaving no room for argument. “me versus mark.”

jeno looks at you, then at his friend, and then back at you, mouth falling open as if to argue. as his eyes meet yours, though, he knows: bickering with you is futile. your brother tosses you the keys to his precious car, and when you meet mark’s eyes again, you’re the one smirking this time. 

“good luck,” you sneer, leaning close until you’re as in his face as you possibly could be. “princess.”

FRIDAY 11:39 P.M.

you’ve never seen him look quite this downright pissed. mark is genuinely one of the more easygoing, mild-mannered men you’ve met, only even acting ‘riled up’ whenever someone - typically hyuck or yuta - makes an inflammatory or downright jokingly flirtatious comment at him. it takes a lot for him to feel rage, and even you don’t think you evoke emotions that strong from him. he’s been insanely annoyed with you, yes, but it usually isn’t anything too far past that.

now, though? now mark fuckin’ lee has a steel grip on your left wrist as he tugs you out of the car. it isn’t too bad - the bumper is crooked, now, and one of the sideview mirrors is dangling and both taken together will cost a very unsexy couple of grands to fix without accounting for the paint - but you can hear your brother’s bemoaned wails at what you’ve done to his precious car. you’re surprised at yourself, too: you’ve never crashed before. 

you’d looked over at mark for a split second too long while going just a hair too fast, and then, suddenly, the side of your - jeno’s - car was scraping some corporate compound’s metal fence. you’d panicked to a stop upon hearing the metallic crunching noises, and had only later heard mark’s c6 screeching to a halt up ahead. he’d yelled your name, you’d thought, but you were still dazed.

that, and jeno, who’d been just ahead at the finish line, had already started screaming by then. not for you. for his car. 

“what the hell were you thinking?” mark yells, pulling you just a little too hard, causing you to stumble into his chest. “why didn’t you slow the fuck down?”

“i- shit, i didn’t realize until it was too late.” you can’t even throw the same tone of voice back in his face, too preoccupied with the realization that, had your steering been just a little off, you might be mangled in the mustang right now. 

the race had gotten cut short then, with you apologizing profusely to your brother for as long as possible afterwards. mark had stepped back, watched on as the two of you assessed the damage to jeno’s car. it was only everyone else had left and jeno’d realized that he’d have to drive home with his car in the mess that it was that mark had stepped in between you and your sibling, offering to let you stay with him for the night rather than risk you and your brother killing each other over the mustang (‘nana’, so affectionately named by jeno after his best friend).

“thank fuck,” jeno’d said, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head in exasperation. 

“fuck this,” you’d muttered under your breath, though a part of you truly is thankful for the intervention and the distraction both. mark had heard you. jeno hadn’t. 

you expect to pull up to the apartment mark shares with his friends yuta and jungwoo, but, instead, he pulls into the parking lot of a motel you know well. of course you do - you’ve rendezvoused here with him on multiple accounts before. it’s only then, as mark fixes a hard, dark gaze on you, that you realize what you’re in for. his mouth meets your skin, your hands meet his hair.

“someone,“ he murmurs into the flesh that joins your jaw and neck. “needs to teach you how to slow down. that someone, though,” a fresh hickey blooms against your skin. he pushes open his car door with the hand that isn’t gripping your shirt’s hem. “sure as hell won’t be me.”

SATURDAY 1:29 A.M.

“someone has to put you in your place.”

mark reaches up your body then, curls a hand gingerly - almost too gingerly - around your throat. he presses lightly against the sides, only enough to make you feel slightly lightheaded. he’s looking down at you directly, gaze hard, daring you to look back. you’re close but it isn’t enough - you’re on an edge, but there’s nothing else behind you, no catalyst to push you into bliss. 

his hand tightens, the other comes down to your pelvis, thumb swiping experimentally against your clit. you can’t help yourself - you tighten immediately around him, back arching slightly as both of you let out choked moans simultaneously. he swipes against your clit one more time before settling his hand against your hip, starting to rub circles into your bundle of nerves if only to feel your vice grip around his cock. you practically keen, gasping at the sheer amount of sensations your body feels. 

you’re on the edge. you’re about to fall. mark’s hips stutter against your own, and he plays with your clit even more vigorously as he cums, not bothering to pull out. he never does, anyways. the hand around your neck tightens just a bit before he lets go of your airways entirely, and the sensation of finally being able to breathe properly again does you in, your chest fully arching almost against mark’s own as you reach your own orgasm. 

it feels like an eternity until the stars are all out of your eyes, but you find yourself falling back to earth as mark finally pulls out. you’re panting, catching your breath, eyes glassy as you try and fix your gaze on him. he notices this, chuckling softly. 

mark heads to the room’s bathroom, and you hear running water for a second before he emerges with wadded up toilet paper and a wet towel. you wince, knowing he’ll use the one-ply toilet paper on you first, but also knowing that neither of you are shitty enough to leave a cum-covered hotel towel behind for the staff to find. he wipes up the mixture of yours and his cum up from between your sensitive thighs, quieting shushing you and apologizing as the scratchy toilet paper meets your still-sensitive pussy. once he’s sure it’s all cleaned up, he wipes you down with the wet towel, doing his best to soothe your skin. 

once he’s discarded the toilet paper and put the towel up, mark pulls on his boxers before gently pushing you over to get into the bed beside you. everything smells like sex, but you can’t bring yourself to be as disgusted by it as you think you should be. you move onto your side, wrapping an arm around him and throwing a leg over him, ignoring the fact that he’s like a space heater and you already feel sticky as it is. he allows his arm to wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer. 

“i’m serious, you know,” he mutters after a while, sighing as he speaks. “you need to learn how to slow down. that could’ve ended very, very badly tonight… and as much as we… have our ‘differences’ or whatever, i don’t know what i’d do without you. okay? so pay more attention when you’re driving. you’re too valuable.”

there’s no response. mark shifts so he can see you, and he realizes that you’re fast asleep, bare chest rising and falling in tandem with mark’s heartbeat. you haven’t heard a word of what he’s said. a small smile graces mark’s features. 

he lets his head fall back onto the too-flat motel pillow, finding that he, too, is suddenly very tired. his eyes slip shut, sleep pulling him in as the night goes on. he pulls you closer on reflex. you allow yourself to get pulled closer in the same way. in the morning, you’ll ask him what he means by ‘you’re too valuable’. you’ve got at least six hours ‘til then. you fall asleep with a smile on your face, mirroring mark’s own.

[yandere-sins]

Routine

I had the absolute pleasure to write for @bellanovas who wished for a continuation for the events after Different ♥ Thank you so much for your support over Ko-fi and then continously as a commission, you’re awesome!

Characters: Yandere!Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Osamu Miya (For clarification: While they reader in the previous one-shots used they/them pronouns, we used she/her here) Warnings: Yandere, Kidnapping, Emotional Meltdown, Forced Affection, Attempted Feeding

Even you knew the charm of routine. 

Even though you were kidnapped and held in this apartment against your will by not one but two crazy men, you understood how a routine helped you to look forward to certain things and not so much to others. Still, it was nice knowing Osamu woke up first, letting you and his brother pull the blanket over your heads a few minutes more until Atsumu had to get up for his morning run and you for your breakfast. You always looked forward to them leaving for the day, despite it meaning they were going to lock you in your room, but at least you had some alone time to either keep napping, read a book, or play a game. It was also the only time you were able to shower or bath without always having the nagging feeling of someone waiting at the door for you, trying to get in even though they knew you locked it. 

Routine meant knowing that your peace would be disturbed with either of the two coming home. There wasn’t a pattern to who returned first and when, the two of them communicating it throughout the day without having a way of letting you know - and not always wanting you to know either. If it was Osamu, you knew you’d at least get dinner soon. If it was Atsumu who walked through the door, a big idiotic grin on his face when he saw you, you sighed, wishing he’d still be at practice. At least, if Atsumu let go of you, he let you roam the full apartment and often brought you new things to get busy with.

However, that was only your day. The meaning of ‘routine’ meant something different entirely for the twins.

Cornering you against the wall, you averted your face to escape the smell of a deodorant shower mixed with sweat. It couldn’t be helped; Atsumu was what he wanted to be - an athlete. Nonetheless, he liked to disregard your personal space in favor of getting closer and closer, even if he only just returned home after a long day, immediately causing a ruckus. 

You see, for the twins, you were the height of their days. No matter how much they enjoyed their daily activities, once they were done, you were the only thing on their mind. No amount of desire and yearning could come close to the drive they felt rushing back from their work to their home to continue their routine of loving you. A feature of this routine was that things you did once had to be shown again. Had to be experienced again, especially if they were cute. 

Thus, your current suffering involved a grown man cornering you, trying to squeeze out the sweet, sweet ‘Welcome Home’ you muttered to him while your mind was foggy from the pleasure you had experienced on that day. It had become a part he’d have liked to implement in his routine, especially with how stubborn you turned out to be when it came to repeating it. You weren’t raising your hands or struggled as much as you did at first when they kidnapped you, but this was a matter of principle. Once you gave in to Atsumu, you’d always have to do it, and once they had this little bit, they’d demand more enthusiasm and more work. You’ve been with them long enough. You knew how these things would end.

It had been foolish, you couldn’t lie. Even though you had only tried to soothe the flared tempers of your captors with these words and were driven by serotonin and other feelings of happiness, you could only blame yourself for doing what you did. Never before had you shown even the smallest enthusiasm over their return, and having, especially Atsumu, latch on to that now, was just an immediate consequence. Any piece of affection you gave him was swallowed wholly and manifested in his head as a new routine for him. Had it been anything else - a kiss, a hug, an apology - you’d be in the same predicament, but it just had to be this silly greeting.

Perhaps you should have tried humoring him just to please him and get him off you, but the thought alone made you want to throw up. Once you’d allow this to fester in his routine, Osamu, too, would demand the same treatment. Before you knew it, the words alone wouldn’t be enough to satisfy their growing hunger for your attention. Suddenly you’d have to be affectionate with them when they arrived at your door, and they’d start to crave for more than you had to offer. There would be no avoiding or forgetting about something they made their routine, and soon enough, it would need to become part of your schedule too.

“I’m home,” he cooed, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. He was prompting you, fishing for what he wanted. Atsumu had a gift to ignore failure, simply trying it again even if his endeavors hadn’t been successful yet. ‘No’ wasn’t in his dictionary, and his understanding of you entirely revolved around loving you and gaining attention and praise from you. Fighting him was the worst. Though Osamu scared you more on a general day-to-day-basis, Atsumu was undeniably trickier than his brother. At least Osamu knew how to take a hint, while Atsumu ignored any and all that didn’t suit him. 

“Home,” he continued, lips fluttering against your temple. “Home~” Another kiss to your chin. Arms started to crawl around your body, feeling like caterpillars wandering over your skin. Knowing what was about to happen, you tensed up, feeling your flight instincts setting in. But where to? Atsumu was already all around you. 

Reluctantly you complied with Atsumu’s demands, his pulls and pushes leading you to the nearby couch. You knew if you wouldn’t move by your own efforts, he’d drag you with him, and not very gently so. At least that much you had already gone through, experienced, and submitted to. You preferred moving over bruising from his grips and pulls. It still wasn’t easy to give in to the fall when Atsumu plummeted onto the cushions, making you lose your steady feet on the ground in favor of seating you on his lap. Still, even that was manageable, though you wished you could have chosen any other position than straddling him. 

The two of you settled like this, his deodorant still filling your nose with its pungent smell, but the hand placing upon the back of your head pushed you forward into his chest relentlessly. It was dizzying but not the worst thing you ever smelled, even though you’d have preferred his deodorant not to be as strong and musky. 

Satisfied, Atsumu embraced you tightly for a few seconds, taking a deep breath of you in return, until you started to stir from the uncomfortable hug. At least for now, you figured he had given up on demanding your sweet voice to welcome him home, if only so because he wanted to cuddle. It may seem like a compromise to him, but you knew it was him forcing you to decide which was the greater bad of the two options he was giving you. Nothing was stopping Atsumu from burying his hands beneath your shirt, his skin noticeably colder than you after he just came home, enough to make you flinch lightly and dig your hands into his arms. 

You tried to get up and free yourself. Still, Atsumu merely chuckled, his response a joking yet demanding, “No! Warm me!” as he reached up all the way over your back, well-maintained, soft hands digging into your sides roughly. Taking a sharp breath, you had a hard time toggling the pain and uncomfortableness that rose in you, wondering what he was up to while Atsumu remained calm and indifferent about your struggles. A few more shifts were all you did, feeling his fingertips squeeze you harder every time you moved, forcing you to give up if you wanted him to release you from the pain.

Immediately, his hands became soft again as he felt you slump in his hug submissively, Atsumu too taking a deep breath before rubbing his cheek against yours affectionately. The areas he had just clenched down on burned up quickly, but you felt the relief set in as the pain slowly subsided. Littering the side of your face with kisses, he finally pulled out a hand from your shirt again, directing your head against his chest once more. You could feel his body relax as he followed your example to slump into the couch, one hand caressing the back of your head with slow, tender strokes while the other one held you in place around your waist precautiously, so you wouldn’t jump up. He held you like a precious, loved child, though he was nothing even remotely close to a parent.

There was no escape from someone so eager to pretend this was a healthy relationship. That you were an actual couple hugging and embracing each other, even if you were more of a limp doll in his arms, barely able to bring up the enthusiasm to hold him in return. All you did was fixate your eyes on the entrance to your room while your ear rested against Atsumu’s chest, hearing an excited beating through his shirt. 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. 

“I did really well today! Everyone was praising me for my setting,” Atsumu began to recount.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“And Bokkun, he--” Interrupting himself with a laugh, Atsumu shook his head, heart beginning to race a little faster. “He tried to look extra cool, but he totally jumped into the net today and got stuck!”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. 

“What about you?” he shifted his attention, and you knew he looked down at the top of your head from above, his thumb coming forth to brush over your eyebrows. “I played Mario Kart today,” you whispered, unwilling to create an awkward silence and cause him to urge you on with more painful touches. 

Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. Ba-dump. 

“Let’s play together after dinner!” Atsumu enthusiastically exclaimed, and you knew it wasn’t an invitation, but a firm statement of how you were going to spend your evening. It also didn’t surprise you that despite talking about Volleyball before, his heart only began to race now that you had spoken up. Atsumu could be that easy to read if he allowed it. 

You thought of the possibility of a nap as he kept spluttering excitedly about how he was going to win against you and how much better he was at games than his brother. Atsumu called it ‘the perk of being the older twin’ that he was winning so much, despite you remembering that he lost almost all the games lately, suspecting it was because he tried to gain your approval by letting you win. 

But your stream of thoughts were harshly interrupted by a sudden hand grabbing you by the arm, pulling you off Atsumu’s lap and out of his embrace. Atsumu’s merrily blabbering came to a halt, and you caught a glimpse of his face wrinkling while you fought with getting to your feet alone. “Go shower, you stink, ‘Tsumu,” you heard Osamu’s familiar voice raise behind you, another help coming to support your struggles.

“It’s not like [Name] cared,” Atsumu hissed, rising after you, their two bodies giving you a feeling of menace as they kept you between each other. “We just enjoyed cuddling, what’s wrong with you?!”

“It’s dinnertime, and you’re still not showered and changed, that’s what’s wrong, Dumbass.”

Atsumu did a short, upset flinch, a huff falling off his lips before he trotted off, pouting. Nothing angered him more than admitting his faults, and Osamu pointing them out didn’t help his swollen ego. Finally, after what seemed to be a quick pat-down, Osamu’s hands disappeared too, and he muttered a short “‘am home,” when you finally turned around, though other than Atsumu he wasn’t as persistent on you returning the greeting as you avoided your eyes and ignored it. Still, he waited for a hesitant, unsure moment, and you supposed the stakes were high when even Osamu considered delaying his routine just to hear your response.

But nodding slowly, his patience took over, and he turned to leave, having you trot after him with a relieved, inwardly sigh. Passing by the twin’s bathroom, you heard Atsumu’s phone play music as he started up a shower behind the door, but with Osamu being unbothered by it, you couldn’t care much about it either. Instead, you felt your stomach grumbling, your last meal having taken place well over five hours ago.

Absentmindedly as you thought back to the bread and egg you had in the morning, you stepped behind the kitchen isle, only to gain a very sharp, alert glare from Osamu, catching you by surprise. Understanding quickly, you were back on the other side, sliding onto one of the three stools on the other side of the kitchen counter, waiting patiently, for this was Osamu’s routine and not yours. 

Where you got your food depended on what either of the twins was feeling like. For Atsumu, it could be a quick plate of pasta on the table in your room or convenience store-bought items on the couch while watching TV. But for Osamu, when it came to be his turn - and luckily that was more often than Atsumu’s - he had you sitting pretty and proper at his side as he finished dinner, mostly served in the kitchen for convenience. 

Cooking was a skill he had in his blood. No wonder he raised ‘Onigiri Miya’ to be a famous hotspot in no time. But besides lavish onigiri, he also was decent with everything else he tried out and wasn’t stingy on bringing home fresh ingredients to feed you and his brother. Even Atsumu’s unique needs for his sports career were met by Osamu’s food, and though he did it with a straight face, you knew he enjoyed cooking very much. 

Being dependent was despicable, that much you knew, but even so, his food could make the world a little better. Even if you wished it wasn’t, well, from someone so toxic and sinister. Someone, whose greatest pleasure was watching you eat the food he prepared for you. Someone who was that kind of crazy. 

It was criminal that the plate before you smelled so damn good. 

Going without food for a long time, or even just a few more hours than usual that day, it was heaven to smell the curry whose steam rose to your nose sweetly. Without doing anything lately to upset Osamu, he even picked out the vegetables and ingredients you liked. A trick he liked to use on you whenever you ‘misbehaved’ was feeding you with only the things you despised. So right now, it was pure bliss, even though you knew it was nothing short of being the reward part of his carrot and stick methods.

You started to scoop a spoonful of it up, not waiting for any signal - you didn’t have to do that, luckily - before putting it in your mouth, letting the hearty taste lay down on your taste buds and the comfortable warmth spread in your body. Usually, you cursed Osamu in your mind, but this day all you could think of was how wonderful the nourishing this meal was for you. Enthusiastically, you kept stuffing your mouth full with it, hoping you’d never get full and your plate never empty.

At least for a while, it truly seemed that way, as you ate and ate some more. However, soon enough, your tummy started to feel stuffed, every spoon getting harder and harder to swallow. You weren’t sure why you were feeling this way when you snapped back from your food trance, hesitating to take the next spoon, only to catch an entirely different spoon putting rice and curry on your plate. Confused, you looked up and at Osamu, who had a very pure and tender smile playing on his lips as he kept taking small portions from his plate, to leave them on yours. 

“Uhm…” you mumbled, blinking a few times in confusion, and he, too, seemed to snap out of his thoughts, meeting your gaze wordlessly. “I’m full, so…” you tried to explain, putting your spoon aside. “Why? Don’t you like it?” It was almost laughable with how much his voice dipped low in disappointment as he said that, Osamu’s eyeing your plate gloomily, shoulder’s slacking. “N-No, it was delicious,” you muttered, a pang of nervosity driving through you. The last thing you wanted was to get on his bad side now. 

“Well, then,” he chirped up again, continuing his curry transfer. “You had no dinner yesterday, after… you know…”

Oh, you knew. And frankly, remembering it now made you feel even worse about the kitchen counter you had sullied the day before with your actions than you usually felt sitting here and contemplating your life choices as Osamu cooked. “Breakfast wasn’t much, so I wanted to make sure you eat enough today.”

“I’m fine, really,” you assured him, but Osamu biting his lip with a doubtful shine in his eyes almost made it seem like he couldn’t believe it even after you ate your portion and most of his. “One more,” he prompted, holding up the hill of rice-curry-mix on his spoon to you, and you felt your stomach turn both from thinking about consuming any more and from letting him feed you. Backing away ever so slightly, you bit back on the urge to decline his offer verbally, instead taking your own spoon to eat from your own plate with your own cutlery. 

Osamu merely watched, a shade falling over his eyes. Still, unprompted, he proceeded to leave the fill on his spoon on your plate again, proceeding to push you to eat more. You didn’t like to acknowledge this side of him, always wanting to believe he was more mature and tempered than his brother, but Osamu, too, could take too much pride in his doings and get pouty when he didn’t get the recognition for his work. It was a bad trait they shared, and though you tried to ignore his watchful eyes whenever you ate his cooking, you knew he was watching you with boundless joy because it was his cooking you were eating. Sometimes, like that day, you even ate with pleasure. 

It made you aware that he reveled in this feeling of being your provider, the hand feeding you, and you wondered if he always thought this way about himself, or only now that you had allowed him closer than ever to you, caressing the remnants of doubts into security. Perhaps, he felt more confirmed in his beliefs after you led him on, believed more in a connection than he did before. 

Scooping only the smallest amount of curry onto your tool, you proceeded to have some more tastes, hoping it would satisfy Osamu if he saw you eat at least a bit more. You dared to think not even he really knew what he wanted from you, and his actions were only placeholders for his true intentions. The intentions of watching you do things that were pleasing to him. 

Even though the hand enveloping yours suddenly came as a shock, it was almost a saving grace if not for the person behind it. Cooling drops of water fell onto the side of your face, and your shoulder as Atsumu leaned over your side, pulling the spoon to his mouth with a loud, “Aah!” 

Before anyone could react, he had already taken a mouthful, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb while his other hand held up the towel around his hips. “It’s good!” he announced, letting out a fond sigh while licking his lips. “Where’s my plate?”

“Where are your clothes?” Osamu retorted sharply.

“In my room, why?”

Staring each other down while Atsumu used your hand casually to keep feeding himself curry, you were both baffled by the exchange as well as him not getting his own spoon or not use your hand to navigate food to his maw. Mannerly, you turned a blind eye towards the towel or the lack of clothes thereof, but an uncomfortable friction began to spread in the air nonetheless.

“Get some clothes and stop spreading water all over the floor, and we can talk about you getting dinner.”

“You’re too sticky with yer damn rules,” Atsumu complained, finally letting go of your hand and turning to leave for his room. “What if someone slips? What if she,” Osamu worried, pointing to you though you weren’t comfortable with being used in this conversation, “falls and hits her head? You want that?”

“‘Course not,” Atsumu quietly admitted, sounding offended, a little worried even, but mostly pouting. “At least get me a plate too,” were his last words before he toddled off, and Osamu sighed, rolling his eyes at his brother before getting up. He wasn’t fooling you, you knew you weren’t a child anymore, and you wouldn’t slip on a few drops of water on the floor - at least, not seriously. It would have made sense for him to think so little of you, simply to undermine your being, but you couldn’t believe it yourself. Watching as Osamu filled another plate with steaming, delicious curry, you pushed your plate away from you, making it very clear you were done. 

However, before you could go, Atsumu returned, taking the seat at your other side for himself and using your spoon to get an up front fill on the food, Osamu returning shortly after, scolding him for eating your food. “Don’t steal from other people’s plates, ‘Tsumu.”

“She’s done,” he confirmed what you had wanted to tell Osamu all this time. “You’re just jealous because I get to eat from her plate.”

“‘Am not.”

“Tell that someone who believes you.”

Their bickering continued, a laughable display of their sibling relationship. As if they could not go a moment without a tease or a snappy comment. As if this was normal, and to some degree, it seemed like it. By the corners of their mouth ever so often twitching upwards, as they joked on each other’s expenses, or the plates being put into the sink to be washed off later, it was all so normal. Just an ordinary evening, on a typical day, with not so sane individuals around you, but overall it appeared so awfully normal. 

Supposedly, that’s what routine did to you. It made a situation that was nothing short of abstruse seem alright and normal, even though the tears welling up as your heart clenched with the realization, weren’t at all a sign of normality. Rather, it was desperation, pity, and fear of what was going on. What was becoming of you when even you started to adapt to this routine of your new days, a routine brought to you by the twins rather than from your endeavors and your life going forward. What would happen? Where would your life lead to?

You couldn’t care about the gazes you earned, two conflicted bastards watching the tears leave lines as they rolled down your face, cold and calculating. Still, neither of them reached out to comfort you yet. They wanted to see where the situation was going, what was happening. If you’d lash out again at them, throw a tantrum, or just fold into yourself. Fulfilling your needs wasn’t always easy with the relationship you three had, and they glanced at each other, hoping their twin would know more about what to do than they did individually. 

But neither of their routines included tending to a meltdown, and yours didn’t either. They could pretend to be normal as much as they wanted. Still, the paradise they tried to uphold daily was rotting and decaying under the surface even if everything seemed to be fine. Laughs, fun, and forceful measurements couldn’t bring them what they really wanted, but it broke you into pieces more and more every day. Their routine and their acting slowly made you wilt and lose yourself, and neither you nor they knew how to deal with that. How to deal with your own routine of slowly succumbing to their forcing. 

They didn’t know.  

They didn’t know, so Osamu emerged from the kitchen to help you up, drag you back to the couch in your room, and sit you down between the two brothers as they put on the TV, latched a big blanket over you three. Their hands rested on your body, but you weren’t even uncomfortable with their touches at that moment, one palm rubbing over your lower back and one on top of your thighs comfortingly. A thumb drawing circles over your knee, while Atsumu pulled you to rest against his chest again, experience the warmth and comfort of another person wanting to help you through whatever you were experiencing. It was something they couldn’t understand, but didn’t intend to happen, at least, that much you took from Osamu’s worried frown as he wiped away the tears escaping your eyes.

You simply hoped that these meltdowns wouldn’t become a part of your or their routine ever.

Especially not when they took turns in gazing at you lovingly, adjusting their bodies so you’d be comfortable, and leaving tender kisses on the top of your head, learning that despite it all, they were the closest you’d ever have in terms of comfort ever again.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Best Friends | Chandler Hallow

Requested? Nope 

Warnings? mentions of family fighting 

Summary: You and Chandler have been best friends for forever and in love with each other for longer but have never said a word about the latter 

Word Count: 1,581

You sit up in your room, your parents arguing loudly beneath you and you try to drown out the noise but fail with headphones. They had seemed to be arguing over the tiniest things recently, and you were sick of it. Granted, you hadn’t always had the happiest childhood and should have been used to the screaming by now but it still affected you. 

As they seem to somehow grow louder, you give up, pulling your headphones out and tossing them across your bed from you. You grab your phone, dialing your best friend's number by heart, and wait for him to pick it up. 

“Hey, you okay?” Chandler greets knowing you didn’t call often but favored a text. 

“Can you come pick me up?” 

“I’ll be there soon.” 

Unfortunately, it wasn’t uncommon for you to call Chandler for the rescue. Being your best friend and literal knight in shining armor, he often dropped everything to pick you up and take you away from the nightmare that was your home some days. 

You were beyond grateful for Chandler and his friendship, never taking a second of it for granted. You knew he would drop anything for you and you would do it in return. You two meant everything to each other. 

Once you get the text that Chandler is at your house, you sneak out as quietly as possible. You were an adult that could do whatever you wanted but you didn’t want to end up in the crossfire of your parent’s argument. 

You make it safely outside and rush straight to Chandler’s car, practically hurling yourself into the passenger seat. You click your seatbelt into place and without a word Chandler heads out. You drive in silence for a couple of minutes before Chandler spares a glance at you at a red light. 

“They’re fighting again,” you respond to his unspoken question. 

"Wanna spend the night?" Chandler asks as he continues to drive.

"You're the best you know that?"

Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time Chandler would offer his home as a refuge to you. Over the years, and the many family issues, Chandler and his family had housed you during the worst. You pretty much had a life debt to them for how much they cared for you. 

As you get to Chandler’s house, you’re already feeling a million times better just spending a few minutes alone with your best friend. Chandler had always had that effect on you. He was the calm in your storm. And it was many of the reasons you were deeply in love with the boy. 

You’re greeted by Chandler’s family the minute you walk through the door, and you offer weak smiles. You head upstairs to his room, and Chandler calls that you would be staying over for the night. 

You get to his room first, swinging the door open and heading straight for his bed where you collapse onto it in relief. Chandler joins you a moment later grabbing you by the waist and pulling you close as you push your face into his chest. 

You sit like that, comfortable, safe, calm in each other’s arms, and revel in the feeling. 

“Thank you,” you say, lifting your head up to rest your chin on his chest. 

Your eyes trace his features, his long lashes splayed across his cheeks as he looks down at you and deep chocolate eyes stare into your (y/e/c) ones. His hand trails up, a finger dragging up your cheek before carefully pushing a piece of hair out of your face and moving back down your jaw again. 

“Feeling better?” he asks quietly. 

“With you? Always,” you whisper in response, and a slow smile creeps onto Chandler’s face. 

The next day, Chandler brings you home with a promise you would see each other soon hopeful that it would be to hang out together. You were glad to find the house deserted when you walked inside, able to relax and not have to answer the questions of your family members. 

You head upstairs, deciding to clean your room for a bit before relaxing and truly doing nothing for the rest of the day. 

Chandler couldn’t stop thinking about his best friend. He worried for her when she didn’t want to talk about what was going on at home. He just wanted to rescue her from every bad thing in the world and keep her safe. 

He never wanted to see a frown on her stunning face and every time she called with a quiet voice his heart broke a little more. He just wanted to wrap her up in his arms and care for her. 

He tries to take his mind off of it, focusing on the work he had to do for mrbeast and later on filming for the day with the rest of the boys. It vaguely works for a while, the guys being able to help distract him but his mind wanders. 

When he gets home, he decides to catch up on youtube videos and check how the most recent mrbeast videos have been doing. Chandler tries not to do this often, knowing that with Jimmy having 50 million subscribers, there’s always going to be hate comments. 

Chandler can’t help it though, scrolling through the comments and spotting thousands of comments but somehow also seeing the ones about him. 

It was a joke on the channel, how Chandler couldn’t win a challenge but some fans had taken it too far. They insisted he’d probably never win a challenge and how bad his family must feel especially when he lost those kinds of challenges. 

So, when he scrolled through one too many of those comments and started getting in his head, the one thing to pull him out was a text from you. 

“Hey?” you question when Chandler calls you minutes after you end up sending him a text. 

“Can I come over?” he asks quietly and even though he can’t see it you frown in concern. 

“Of course.” 

You wait anxiously for Chandler to come over, hoping everything was alright with your best friend. You lay in bed, covers pulled up to your chin, and flip back and forth through the same apps over and over while you wait. 

Minutes pass before a quiet knock sounds on your door. Just as you sit up Chandler slips into the room and you can instantly tell that somethings wrong. 

He heads straight for you, diving into your arms and you pull him into your embrace. His body slots perfectly in between yours, his head resting on your stomach as one leg slips between yours and the other drapes over your hip. 

You reach down carefully carding a hand through his hair while the other rubs his back in slow soothing movements. You want to ask what’s wrong, what prompted the spontaneous visit but you don’t want to ruin the quiet of it all. 

“It’s the hate comments,” he whispers and your eyes snap down to his eyes. 

Chandler’s eyes search yours and he falls deeper for you in the moment. You had always put everyone else first and it was another reason Chandler was head over heels for you. You only let him in, while others you put up a brave front. 

You two had a special bond, one that some couldn’t understand and would only make sense to the two of you. It’s like you two knew about the others feelings but didn’t want to ruin the comfort of what was now. 

“Hey,” you say, catching his attention. 

“You know you’re beautiful right?” you ask.

Chandler’s face flushed red instantly and he hides away in the fabric of your sweatshirt. You didn’t even know what the comments said, you could have been completely off, and Chandler had started feeling better the minute you were near him. 

You move your hand that pushes through his brown locks down till it’s resting on his cheek and you gently tug at his chin, causing him to look at you. 

“I’m serious.” 

Something about your words ignites a light in Chandler. A new one that gives him the confidence, the want to move further with you. He knew he loved you and knew he always would. 

He carefully sits up, his knee coming to rest in between your legs as he leans over you. One hand lands next to your face on the bed while the other caresses your cheek with care. 

His eyes search yours and find the determination, love, and care he always found in your fiery (y/e/c) eyes. The look you give him pushes him forward and lights that fire in his heart. 

He leans down, and your eyes flutter shut moments before his lips connect with yours. You feel every inch of his skin on yours and it lights you up from the inside out. You’re heart pounds erratically against your chest and you can’t help but smile as the kiss deepens. 

As you pull away, Chandler sits up to look at you and you both share a smile before giggling lightly and looking away. You’re tempted to say something but no words could describe your elation. And nothing had to be said for the two of you, you just knew. 

“Oh my gosh,” Chandler giggles, making you smile all over again. 

He pecks your lips once more before maneuvering around to pull you close where you would stay the rest of the night.

[msmarvelwrites]

Season Of The Witch

Summary: Your witchy abilities get you in quite a bit of trouble from time to time… But this time you don’t mind so much. 

Pairing: Bucky x reader 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, honestly i think that’s it. Just soft boy Bucky.

Word Count: 2k

Author's Note: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Little bit of a witchy- halloween vibe for ya guys… Honestly I’m really in love with this idea, so who knows- if you like it I might write a part 2! 

Huge Thank you to @cutie1365 for editing this mess! Couldnt have done it without her!

“Okay, okay. What colour am I thinking of now.” Peter squealed, plopping himself down on your bed, staring at you like a kid on christmas. 

Being the Avengers personal psychic has its benefits, but this was certainly not one of them. You thought your party-trick of a superpower would have grown old on your friends, and yet it always seemed to draw a crowd of non-believers. You weren't the toughest or the strongest by any means, but you sure knew your way around a person's thoughts, which proved to be an advantage to the team. Mostly you were in charge of recon, but that didn't stop Natasha from dragging you to the gym every weekend and torturing you with super hero level workouts. 

“How many more times are we going to do this, Peter?” You sighed, but soon realised he wasnt caving. “Blue. Just like last time it was orange and the time before that thirteen. Can we please stop.” 

Peter scanned you over for a moment, before relaxing back on your headboard. 

Fine, but only because Mr. Stark said he was ordering Chinese and it's probably here by now. His voice echoed through your mind. 

“Actually, I heard Wanda say he’s getting pizza.” You corrected.

“How did you-?” He paused, eyes agape as your words registered. “That is seriously cool, you know that? I mean, I hang from the walls but that- that is cool! I can see why they coined you The Witch now,” Peter playfully shouted. “Can you do that with anyone, at any time?” 

You smiled sheepishly, remembering the times your wandering mind had gotten you in some pretty uncomfortable situations. You tried your very best to stay out of your friends heads, but sometimes that was easier said than done. Especially when it came to the former Hydra assassin. His thoughts seemed to creep into your mind, seeping through the cracks unbidden. Sometimes his mind would wander aimlessly, but that wasn't always the case. You knew about Bucky’s dark past, however hearing it in his own cruel words was something else entirely. Though he would never utter the words allowed they were seared into your mind. You had every sense to avoid the man and yet his voice, like gravel and smoke, drew you in, intoxicated on his every word as it clouded around your subconscious.

“Unfortunately” You sighed, easing back into the mattress and unconsciously biting at the corner of your mouth. Your gift didnt make you very popular when you were younger. You were honestly surprised it was so welcomed here. Most people consider you an invasion of privacy...  But Peter was different from the highschool kids you grew up with. Maybe it was due to the fact he was different too, but something about the way his mind wandered made you believe that radio-active spider or not, Peter would always be Peter. 

“What does Bucky think about?” 

That knocked you out of your thoughts. You snapped your head up and looked at Peter, who only seemed to have a curious look in his eyes. 

He’s so broody and mysterious. Guy gives me the creeps. 

“Bucky is a sweetheart deep down.” You faked a smile, concerned as to why you felt the need to defend him. From an outside perspective, it was possible to fear the former Winter Soldier. However, knowing what you did haunted your nerves. 

“I’m sure very, very deep down.” Peter chuckled. “I’m going to go grab some pizza before Sam eats it all. Are you coming?” 

You smiled softly, preparing yourself for the dinner with your friends. Though you enjoyed having a sort of family, dinners together would often grow overwhelming in your mind, voices colliding though your head, brewing into a storm in your thoughts. 

“I’ll be down in a few.” With that, Peter stumbled out of your room and down the hallway leaving you with your thoughts. You closed your eyes, concentrating on the many different voices faintly echoing around you. You could only make out bits and pieces as they vibrated through the walls and all around you. At first, it was hard to identify whose voice belonged to who, but soon after you moved into the compound it became easy. 

Natasha thought in poems. Her brain was always working on the next solution- the next verse. Her mind wandered in and out of trains of thought like a dancer, drifting back and forth with ease. It was always relaxing listening in. 

Tony was constantly listening to his music wherever he went. You had an inkling it was because he knew how powerful you were. ‘Like built-in surveillance,’ he’d often say. Though, you’d never deflate his ego in letting him know you could still hear his thoughts clear as day. 

But then there was Bucky. It took you a while to understand his thoughts. They always seemed erratic and chased- never one thought all at once, but it soon became clear why. Bucky was constantly correcting himself. When his mind began to tiptoe into the darkest corners, he’d change the conversation, ushering it back to what he thought was right. Listening to his internal debates became a favourite pastime of yours. He often reminisced about his time in the forties. You liked how easy it was, listening to him think. Though you had never said more than five words to him allowed, you were content with this little part of him. Pieces only you both knew. Like the beautiful woman he would lose himself daydreaming about. The way he described her made you feel flush all over. He never thought her name, and yet it stung all the more knowing his heart was stolen. His beautiful ‘ведьма’. Not that you stood a fighting chance. Not to mention the impending age gape you both shared. Often he would find you staring and a string of curses would follow as he realised he’d be caught. You never meant to intrude, but then again, that wasn't entirely true. 

With a huff, you swung your legs off the bed letting your feet hit the cold wooden floors, but before you could even open the door, you heard him. His voice was so loud you almost didn't know if he was speaking aloud or not. 

Just do it, you punk. Walk up there and ask her. What’s the worst that could happen?.... She could plunge a knife into your back- no…. She wouldn't do that and you know it. If you ask her, she might say yes… Honestly that might he worse than- 

You swing the door open, startling Bucky back a few paces as your eyes might his. Instantly his face blooms with pink as his mind races- his thoughts an incoherent mess. 

“Hi Bucky.” You spoke only above a whisper. 

“Oh jesus! I didn't know you were right there.” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck trying to steady his breathing. 

“Sorry…” You mumbled, breaking eye contact and suddenly finding the floor very interesting. “I didn mean to scare you-”

“You don’t- I mean, you didn't scare me.” He chuckled, his mind suddenly blank. “It doesn't matter right now because I, uh… I was wondering if you're coming for dinner.” 

You nodded your head, “Yeah, on my way now.” You smiled softly. 

“Great,” Bucky grinned, running his hand through his cropped hair and stepping aside. “I can walk with you.” 

You nodded, swallowing hard as you swung the door shut and began walking side by side with Bucky in heavy silence. 

“Know what’s for dinner?” Bucky finally spoke. 

“Pizza. Your favourite.” You affirmed, meeting his curious eyes. His strides slowed until he was at a full stop. 

“I never told you that.” He pried, looking at your in question. 

You froze, suddenly aware of what you had just said. There was nothing more you wanted than to sink into the floor and let the earth swallow you whole. 

“Uh,” You nervously laughed, “You must have at some point. Yeah, I remember now, it was-”

“How often do you listen?” he interrupted, making your mouth clamp shut. 

You thought about lying, though it didn't seem right. You knew all his secrets and all he asked was this one. Surely you could grant him that even if it cost a punch to the ego.

“All the time,” You started, your eyes never leaving the floor. “I don’t mean to. At least that’s the way it started. I really try to put you guys all on ‘mute’ when we're together, but your voice always comes through. I don't know what it is, but I like the way you think.” You admitted, feeling heat rising from your chest.

“You like the way I think?” He pried, taking a few steps closer to you. You could feel the tension buzzing around the hallway, ricocheting off the walls and exploding all around you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so embarrassed. It's such an invasion of privacy. You must hate me. I promise I won't tell anyone about the things I hear. Especially her.” 

“Her?” He chuckled, taking another step toward you leaving only a few tiles between the two of you. 

“Ведьма.” You choked out. “You think about her all the time. She sounds beautiful, by the way. I’m sorry, that's overstepping… I just, I’m sorry. Really I’ll just go-”

Before you could turn on your heel and run for the hills, Bucky's hands were around your wrists, holding you still. His eyes were pleading as he opened he opened and shut his mouth trying to find the right words to say. 

“For a witch, you sure aren’t very intuitive.” Bucky signed, your eyes finally landing on his.  “My beautiful witch, don’t know by now?” 

You blinked at him, your mouth suddenly dry and words caught in your throat. Before you could speak, his thoughts broke through the air, tumbling around you. 

Are you listening, doll? His voice echoed around you sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded your head, watching as his eyes crinkled up as he a lopsided grin formed on his pink lips. 

It’s you. It’s always you. I've tried to stop, trust me. I just can’t seem to shake it.

You almost didn't notice the smile that began to pull at the corners of your mouth as you took in his words. They drifted in the air around you, echoing through your mind as Bucky’s thumbs rubbed circles into your skin. 

“Ask me.” You spoke up, a sudden confidence serging through your core. Bucky raised a brow, scanning you over until your words resonated with him. 

“Right, of course.” He cleared his throat, letting go of your hands and intertwining his own nervously. “Would you ever consider letting me take you out. To dinner, maybe?”

You bit down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling as you listened to his internal monologue of nerves that followed his question. 

“Took you long enough.” You chuckled, watching as his smile lit up the room around you. Before you could stop yourself you closed the distance between you, draping your arms around his shoulders and crashing your lips onto his. Bucky froze, but almost as instantly melted into you, his hands finding their home on your hips as he pulled you in. You wanted nothing more than to melt into him but his racing thoughts swirled around you, causing a giggle to fall from your lips. 

Holy Shit. Kiss her back, you moron. Oh god she smells so good. What is that? Cinnamon? Citrus? Shit, she's so close to me. Don't panic. Don't panic. Fuck she feels good. Just relax, and- Oh shit. Can you hear me? 

You couldn't help but throw your head back, laughter bubbling out of your chest as his thoughts raced through his head. 

“I can tell you're going to be a lot of fun, Barnes” You mumbled against his lips.

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A/n: Nervous Bucky is my favourite can you tell? I loved this one, show some love if you felt the same! 

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